I, Too Am Alexander
by Norrsken
Summary: Alexander's drinking habits leads to some very serious complications. Hephaestion will have to use all his diplomatic and fighting skills to keep the reckless King out of harm's way.
1. The Banquet at Maracanda

TEMPLATE:

Title: FIC: I, Too Am Alexander ( 1 /7 )

Author: NorthernLight

Category: Love/Friendship/Adventure story. Alternate History.

Pairing: Alexander&Hephaestion Date: July 2005.

Feedback: Yes, all kinds, on or off list, as you please. Archive: Yes, if you like, but please tell me.

Disclaimer: I don't own them, though I wish I did! Not for gain - my work is for my deep interest in Alexander and Hephaestion, their time and adventures.

Rating: R

Beta: Denise. Many thanks for good discussions and suggestions.

Summary : After hard campaigning in Bactria, Sogdiana and Scythia Alexander and his army take their quarters at Maracanda. While resting there a certain drinking party gets totally out of control.

Historical note: General Cleitus' appointment to the Satrapy of Bactria, in some records Sogdiana, is a historical fact, also the troublesome drinking party. All else that occurs is a product of my own imagination. Old Archontes is an invention of mine. I couldn't find out who replaced Cleitus as satrap in all of my books.

Warnings: This is AR, close to but not "real" history. Violence, hard fighting, angst and intrigues. Heavy drinking with unpleasant consequences. Positive surprise in this first chapter.

X-tra warning: As you might have seen before in my fics I have strong opinions about the hazards of heavy drinking. The demons of alcohol causes many tragedies in my country and I cannot resist some moralizing.

Dedication: To Denise. Thanks to your excellent and positive fic challenge about Alexander being kidnapped and Hephaestion having to make an agreement with all his adversaries and take over the army for a daring and dangerous rescue operation.

I, Too Am Alexander

Part I

Maracanda 328 BC

Unwelcome Command

General Cleitus was called to the King to receive new orders. He expected to get a new, high command in the upcoming campaign towards India and very much looked forward to it. He knew Alexander simply couldn't do without him. He was an Old Hand, knowing everyone and everything and completely irreplaceable in the King's High Command. The faithful guards Stefanos and Alexios showed him into the King's office. He smiled friendly at them but they averted their eyes, looking strangely down trodden. The air was still and quiet inside the office. Curtains of green, gold embroidered fabrics kept the merciless outside sun at bay. Only some golden rays played around the beautiful wall paintings and ornaments. Soft grass green carpets crumpled under his feet and he saw Alexander, Hephaestion, Krateros, Perdiccas and Ptolemy sitting solemnly at the oval table of cedar wood. The King beckoned him to the empty chair.

"Take a seat, my dear old friend. We've something of the utmost importance to tell you. "

Proudly he took a place in their company, expecting some really good news.

"You know that Bactria is one of our grandest and most important provinces?"

He nodded accommodatingly, thinking: "That is certainly none of my business."

"I assigned it to old Artabazos after Bessus was executed. He has looked after it excellently for us - but now he has requested to retire to his estates. Old age has finally taken it's toll upon him."

"How curious, my King. I never thought he would resign from duty. But - what has all this to do with me?"

"I need a strong and reliable man to govern Bactria for me, Cleitus. It's you I'm thinking of. You'll leave within the week. It's a most important command, guarding our supply lines and communications during our campaign into India."

Cleitus felt his chin drop down to his knee. This was both unexpected and unwanted.He felt like he had been slapped right in the face. Forgetful of both etiquette and respect for the King he called out loudly:

"NO, My Lord! You cannot mean this. I'm to follow you to India, fight at your Left Side as I'we always done. You simply cannot do without me - and I can think of no other life and service than at your side!"

Alexander answered him calmly and politely:

"Yes, Cleitus. I know all this. You've done extremely well in the past - but now it's time for younger men to follow me into the heat of battle. Perdiccas will have your military command. Don't you see - it's an assignment of utmost importance and dignity I give to you. You must obey my decision. I'll not go back on it."

General Cleitus saw the determined air in Alexander's face and his whole posture. He knew all arguing was futile and bowed his head in sorrowful resentment.

"Yes, My King. I'll do as you order me, but I know the day will come when you realize you've made the wrong decision. You'll sorely regret doing this to me!"

"I certainly understand that you're cross at me right now - but you'll have a good time with the good and peaceful life far behind our lines of battle. I assure you I'll miss you dearly. You are welcome to a Royal Banquet to celebrate your departure. It's a week from now - on the feast of the Dioscures."

General Cleitus left the King's office without a word, rising so fast and violently that the chair fell to the floor behind him. He rushed out, slamming the door shut with a great bang.

Futile Pleading

The meeting was all over and the Generals left. Hephaestion stayed close to Alexander.

"I told you he'd be upset. You shouldn't have done this to him. He's the very best! I don't mind sharing my command with Perdiccas but I feel much safer with Cleitus at my side. Why didn't you consider my recommendations with Archontes and Oxyarthres in shared command. Old Archontes has pleaded for a long time to receive a command away from active military duty. He is an excellent administrator, reliable and he is interested in the Persians and all their peculiar customs. He will perform excellently - much better than someone you've forced!"

"No, Hephaestion. I wont't go back on my decision, not even on your recommendations. This Command is far too important. I need the best man for it! Cleitus will reconsider and forget his stubborn resistance. I've invited him to a Banquet of Honour. It'll be a wonderful treat to all invited."

"Oh no. Not another drinking party! I'm sick and tired of those. You drink far too much for your own good these days - and all the others follow your bad example. I will stay sober this time. The vinegar water I've made up for me and the guards is not so bad as it seems. You ought to try some. It could do you good!"

"Yes, I'll take you up on it when we're out on campaign again -but not for now. Don't be cross on me. You know I always do what's best."

Hephaestion gave up his futile pleading and left for his own office. There was much to to with the upcoming Indian Campaign so close at hand. Hephaestion sat calmly at his writing table, managing to read several scrolls and heaps of documents simultaneously. His assignments in Army Logistics had been steadily growing over the years and was sometimes far too much for one man alone.

The door was thrown open so violently it almost fell of it's hinges. General Cleitus came rushing inside, looking desperate and forlorn with his long black hair on ends,and his eyes bloodshot.

"I've told you I cannot abide with this Bactrian business, Hephaestion! Can't you talk to him once more? I know you don't want me to stay behind. You've always relied on me for all the dangerous and delicate missions."

"I understand how you feel, Cleitus. I've tried very hard to make him change his mind - but he won't listen even to me! I'm so sorry. I'll miss you - and many with me. It'll be hard work for me managing the Companion Cavalry without your support. Perdiccas and I are doing nicely enough - but you're the best!"

"I don't want to be a satrap! I want to come along into India with you. You cannot do without me! You need me - Bactria can have someone else!"

"Yes. I think so too. Too bad Artabazos is too old to continue. We need someone reliable in his stead - but I'd have wanted someone else in that position. I'm so sorry. Alexander hasn't been himself of lately."

Hephaestion rose and embraced Cleitus trying to comfort him. They both trembled from frustration, feeling down trodden by the King's unreasonable decision.

Ill Omen

The atmosphere in the King's Banqueting Hall at Maracanda was stifling hot, the air still with dissension and dissatisfaction. Another drinking party was in progress, this one especially ill omened, being the farewell party for General Cleitus. Many resented the King's decision to leave him behind since he was well liked by all the common soldiers and almost everyone in the King's High Command. Stefanos and Alexios stood near to the King's couch, vigilantly holding onto their spears. Their Lord Hephaestion, always calm and sober, had forced them to drink water heavily mixed with sour vinegar instead of the strong red wine of this godforsaken place.

"Someone needs to stay sober this evening. It's becoming worse all the time...If you don't like what you get you can console yourselves with the thought that I'm having the same sour drink as you!"

They well knew what he meant. King Alexander was deep into one of his heavy drinking bouts and he had arrived to the party already staggering. Hephaestion was kindly supporting him as they took their place at the King's fine couch in the middle of the Banqueting Hall. All other guests had already arrived. The generals, the Greek guest friends, the Persian nobles were waiting at their couches and now lay down, looking for the procession with the luxurious banquet food plates. It was the Feast of the Dioscures and King Alexander had ordered some really wonderful dishes for all of them. He looked around and asked angrily:

"Where is Cleitus? He's invited to this very closest couch. We're celebrating tonight not only for the Dioscures, it's our farewell party since he's leaving for the Satrapy of Bactria." Krateros answered:

"I saw him a short while ago. He was preparing two sheep to sacrifice for the Dionysia.

" The King snapped his fingers at the servants.

"He must be ready with that by now. Go and tell him to join us at the party! He's to come immediately!"

Ashort time passed. Then the General Cleitus came, a bit staggering - and followed by the two sacrificial sheep, just prepared for the rite. The King's servants had been so compelling to take him to the party that they hadn't left him enough time to finish the sacred ceremony. The party guests stifled some giggles at the bleating sheep who looked puzzled at the Banqueting Hall with its soft couches and flickering sconces. Alexander looked with amusement at the unusual procession.

"Feel yourself most welcome to this Banquet, my old friend. It's some strange company you've brought into my Hall. You look like an old ram between two succulent ewes!"

Only at this very moment did General Cleitus realize what company he had brought with him to the King's feast. He quickly ordered the servants to lead the sheep away, white with humiliation.

"My Lord, you don't need to mock me any more than you already have. These are sacred animals, dedicated as an offering to Dionysos. We ought to honor him over all on this very day. It's his most important Sacrificial Day."

"You're right, my old friend. Aristandros! You must take the sheep to the temple and fulfill the sacrifice. It's an Ill Omen if they should stay alive."

Bitter resentment

Stefanos stood stone sober, leaning on his spear, guarding the King's banquet together with his friend Alexios. They were feeling ill at ease, strongly disliking the dismissal of the General Cleitus. He was like a father to them, the first one to introduce them to the many hard tasks in the King's Glorious Army and Guard of Honour and they didn't know how to manage without him. Of course they understood the common sense of the King's decision. Bactria was the most important Satrapy for their supply lines - but the faithful guards found their Lord Hephaestion's suggestion with Archontes as Satrap was a far better and more sensible one. He had given them stern orders to guard the King and the General Cleitus closely, expecting trouble, perhaps some real calamity during this sad farewell feast. They were to be most vigilant and spare no efforts to keep them out of harm's ways. Now the General had arrived - but such an ill omened arrival no one never saw. The guards made signs to avert Evil from their beloved superior, feeling the foreboding of doom and disaster. General Cleitus was staggering from too much wine, having started with the Dionysia early in the morning. Even in his drunken condition he was most impressive, long coal black hair with only a few grey streaks, old fashioned beard, clever brown eyes, the very image of strength, virility and thrustworthiness. He took his place at the couch of honour closest to the King, silently reclining, watching the King and the Lord Hephaestion with bitter resentment. A servant filled his cup and he immediately started to drink, brooding over the golden, ruby adorned cup of honour.

Stefanos turned his vigilant gaze to the King's couch. His two Lords were reclining at ease together, the King glorious and golden as usual in a shining white chiton, a belt of pure gold with diamonds embedded and gold studded sandals. He wore a purple mantel which he soon removed because of the stifling heat in the Hall. Their Lord Hephaestion was looking magnificent in a midnight blue chiton, golden belt around his waist, a golden chain with amehysts sparkling around his neck and a ribbon of the same precious stones upon his clear and calm brow, shining together with his wonderful blue eyes and his glossy auburn hair, so long and beautiful. The stones of Sobriety, most appropiate for their wearer. Both Lords were looking so wonderful together, seeming not a day older than when they set out for their glorious conquest. They all had come a long and hard way together - and now difficulties were mounting in their path of glory.

Drunken Glory

The drinking party proceeded with all kinds of delicious courses. The guests were luxuriously wined and dined and got the most excellent entertainment. There were fruits and food from all the four cardinal signs, succulent meats, fresh and boiled vegetables, fruits of all kinds and - the wine flowed freely, everyone was soon getting giddy, talking louder and louder - common sense being gradually abandoned. Alexander sat at his couch, glowing with pride, confident with all his victories and exploits. He was feeling so good, having figured out his Indian Campaign so smoothly. Cleitus would guard the important supply lines excellently, all the younger officers would do their very best, all was proceeding wonderfully well. He had another cup of strong untempered wine. It brought him a pleasant relaxing giddiness. He looked all around him, and saw all his friends in a rose colored light. Hephaestion close to him at his own couch, Ptolemy, always clever and thoughtful, now dropping a grape on the floor, Perdiccas, looking at Hephaestion, surely looking forward to the important shared command over the Companion Cavalry, Leonnatos, strong and reliable, Krateros, looking enviously as usual at Hephaestion sharing the King's couch, and Nearchos, talking to Seleukos about some amazing sailing exploits. Hephaestion reclined at the King's side, his sobriety enabling him to enjoy the wonderful sight of his Beautiful Golden One all the better. Alexander was looking so bright and beautiful this very evening. His cheeks were flushed by all the wine he had consumed but it only made him more desirable. Perhaps later, if only he didn't have too much of the untempered strong red wine...

Alexander started to tell them of all his exploits. Bucephalos came first. Hephaestion watched him from his position close to the King's couch. He was looking so wonderful, his hair in its long golden waves, his face was shining from an inner light, almost as if he had a warm, golden sun of his own to draw strength from. His beautiful grey eyes were truly blazing with energy and decisive power. A ribbon of diamonds shone and sparkled around his brow, one of them bigger than the others, shining like a star. Hephaestion listened intently to the King telling tales. His Beautiful Golden One had never before been so convincing, so wonderfully bright and beautiful All the young men listened in awed silence, nodding at the right times. Then Alexander mentioned his father, King Philip, and told them how he himself had surpassed his mighty exploits in many sensational ways.

Bitter Quarrel

Suddenly Alexander was cut short by a rough, commanding voice, slurred by too much wine for the speaker's own good.

"You! You are just a mere boy beside your illustrious father. Don't you ever dare mock his memory so long as anyone here in Hall remembers him."

Cleitus! He had been sitting on the couch of honor close to the king, scarcely tasting the sumptuous food, just downing cup after cup of strong untempered wine. Now it had gone too his head and stolen away all his common sense. Alexander looked calmly at him.

"I'don't mock Philip, Cleitus. I know very well I have him to thank for the beginning of my glorious reign - but our success here in Persia is all because of me and my Military Genius!"

"Yes, that I can give to you. But - without us, your faithful friends and army, you're nothing!"

Their arguing was long and bitter. They brought up quarrels and offenses from long times ago and recent troubles. The shouting and roaring was upsetting. First the Persian guests fled the Hall...then the Greek guest friends...then the few Indian delegation members. The true Macedonians stayed, shuddering, almost trying to hide under their couches. All was in an uproar. Cleitus was giving the King not only one good piece of his mind. No, he brought up all his faults and grievances since Alexander was only a mere little mite toddling in the Royal Cradle! The two men quarreled ruthlessly and now even the true Macedonians discretely left the party, stealing away in the shadows of the stone walls. Alexander had finally lost his temper and gave Cleitus stern rebuke:

"You stop talking back to me! Stop trying to master me! You'll have to obey my decision!"

The older man screamed right out at his King:

"You! You Son of Ammon! Listen to me closely, Alexander! You cannot put me away to some godforsaken barbarian Satrapy! You need me closely at your side. You need all of us Old Hands to manage this risky venture of yours!"

Alexander tried to rise from the couch. Hephaestion put his hand upon his shoulder. His friend was heated up from his anger and immoderate drinking and didn't notice the restraining grip. He tried to talk some common sense to Cleitus instead:

"My old friend. It's better you leave this banquet right now. We'll talk this over tomorrow when you both have sobered up. I think I can arrange something all can agree to..."

Strong hands pushed him violently off the King's couch. Totally shocked he fell to the stone floor, finding himself the target of Alexander's anger.

"You! Always the diplomat. Always something to say against my wisest decisions! Well, I'll not listen to you in this matter. I'll send Cleitus off packing the very first thing tomorrow!"

"No, you'll not! You'll be sorry for turning your closest friends away from you. Look here, Alexander! With this very hand I saved your very Life at the Granicos!"

Cleitus held his strong right hand before Alexander, shaking it decisively. Now Ptolemy and Kraterus took him and forcibly dragged him away from Hall. Alexander tried to follow but Hephaestion got up from the floor and grabbed him, holding him around the waist and managed to restrain him in his drunken anger.

"No! You cannot do this to me! Guard! Sound the Alarm! I'm under attack. You'll do away with me as they did with Darius!"

Stefanos looked confused. He knew that if he sounded the Alarm all the Camp would rise in an uproar and rush to the King. The situation wasn't all that serious - but surely bad enough. Hephaestion nodded violently against it.

"Alexander. Calm yourself down. We're doing this for your own good." P

tolemy and Perdiccas dragged Cleitus forcibly away. He was screaming violently, pointing at Hephaestion:

"You! Always at his side, eager to do his bidding, pining for him like a lovesick young maiden!"

Hephaestion was indulgent toward the outrageous insult, having heard far worse. He forcibly dragged Alexander down at the couch. The King was trembling and white from anger. Then he calmed down and held his cup out for a refilling. Hephaestion pushed it away with great dislike.

"No, you'll not have any more of this. You've had far enough! Calm yourself down now. He didn't mean any of it. He's even more drunk and reckless than you, my dear friend."

Regardless of the Macedonians suspiciously watching around them he held Alexander in a close embrace, rubbing his shoulders, trying to make him relax and regain some of his clear wits. The heat was suffocating around them, the velvet dark Persian night outside brewing with hot resentment and angered feelings. Heavy boots trampled hard upon the stone floor.

"Listen to me again, Alexander! Alas, ill tides for Old Hellas..."

Cleitus was back, wanting the last word. The well known lines of Euripides, all about the Commander getting all the glory, the common man doing all the hard work... Alexander couldn't stand for it. He leaped like a white lightning and grabbed at Stefano's spear. The faithful guard held on for dear life, screaming out loud:

"No, My Lord. You cannot have my spear to use against him. You'll be sorry for it in the morning. "

The King was by far the stronger man - but Stefanos fought righteously with all his might to prevent his dear Lord to commit such murderous outrage. In his drunken confusion Alexander had no chance to pry away the dangerous weapon form the faithful guard. Instead he came upon Cleitus with his bare hands. Both men tumbled around the Hall floor in a drunken brawl, dealing bitter blows at each other. Hepheastion and the Generals looked at the disaster in utter horror. They didn't dare interfere. The combatants were both mad with drink and bitter resentment, Alexander furious like a golden lightning, Cleitus stubborn like an old tough oak. It was simply not possible to go between them. The air was stifling hot with violence and resentment. Hard words and hard blows were exchanged in all eternity.

"NO. We cannot let them go on like this. Servants! Bring some buckets of real cold water. That'll sober them up."

The frightened servants hurried to obey Hephaestion's orders. At last someone doing something really helpful. The Generals didn't dare douse the King and his High Commander in cold water so Hephaestion had to do it himself. There was some angry screaming and yelling, but not even cold water could exstinguish the bitter brawl. Then Hephaestion felt himself being engulfed by his own Dark Demons of bitter resentment. He furiously stamped the floor, his blue eyes a blazing fury, his auburn hair on ends as if by lightning and his voice roaring, filling the Hall with angered frustration:

"You two! Stop this immediately! A shame on you, the King and his High Commander behaving like spoiled children! Macedon needs both of you working together to govern all our conquests and lead our victorious army!"

They didn't listen even to this uncommon outburst - but now all Macedonians and the Generals finally fled the Hall. The General Hephaestion, usually so calm and composed was terrible to behold in his unusual wrath. He now took both the combatants by the scruff of their necks and dragged them violently apart. It was easier than he reckoned, both being almost spent in their drunken anger. They simultaneously passed out, hanging limply in his hands. He called desperately for the guards to help him;

"Carry the General Cleitus to his quarters. I'll take care of the King myself. We must sort this out tomorrow when all are sober again. I wish that all this could be forgotten forever! Tell no one what has happened here tonight."

Easily said than done. Soon the disaster was all over Camp, everyone fearful for the General Cleitus. He was known to always tell the King the Truth, regardless of consequences. The King had put up with his outspoken advice and rough wisdom - but this outrage had to be punished in some grievous way. The men were worriedly whispering, taking the old General's part, bitterly resenting the King's treatment of this faithful Old Hand.

After the Feast

Hephaestion carried his Beautiful Golden One with great care to his quarters. Alexander was senseless from heavy drinking and hard fighting, hanging limply in his arms. The faithful guards followed, always ready with a helping hand. The air was still as hot and stifling, the whole Palace whispering about the outrageous banquet. It sounded really ugly and Hephaestion felt himself shudder from a series of chills despite the hot Persian night. Inside the Royal Bedchamber was somewhat cooler, with lofty windows letting in some midnight breezes. The bed was ready made with it's fine silken sheets and emerald green flowery quilt folded at the side. Alexios told them all:

"We must take extra care with security this night. Things are worse than usual..."

"I know! I'll stay with him myself -and you'll keep close to the door. Double, no, triple the King's Guard tonight! This is really horrible. I certainly hope Alexander and the General will have forgotten this when they wake up tomorrow. "

Alexios answered in a fearful mood:

"The King never forgets anything. It doesn't matter how drunk he is, he can always recollect everything!"

"Yes, I know that too, my friend. Only hoping...Leave us now. I'll have to put him to bed myself."

Servants came with cool lavender water and linen cloths. Hephaestion thanked them and sent them away. With deep concern he undressed his friend and washed him all over with the cool water and then rubbed him down with a soft violet blue towel. No reaction at all! Alexander was so hopelessly drunk he didn't even feel the coolness of the scented water. He tended his bruises, putting on some ointments to make them heal easier.

"My dear friend. You can be thankful for having me to take care of you. I'll see to you whatever you do, whatever happens."

He carefully turned Alexander over onto his right side and pulled the finely embroidered emerald quilt over him. For a long time he stood watching his Beautiful Golden One together with the silvery full Moon shining brightly and curiously upon the King, wondering about the strange Affairs of Men. Alexander had fallen into a heavy intoxicated sleep. His cheeks were flushed from the heavy drinking, his breathing deep and softly snoring, his wavy golden hair in disarray over the soft pillow. He was beautiful even in this sad condition and Hephaestion gave him a kiss on his fevered brow before he lay himself down by his side. He made himself comfortable behind his friend's strong muscular back, holding his hands protectively and possessively around his waist. No Evil, no calamity must ever befall his Beautiful Golden One. He said with determination out into the Persian night:

"My dear Alexander. I will always love you and be your friend - but tonight I surely wish something would happen to keep you from your troublesome drinking habits for a very long time!"

Hephaestion mercifully didn't know that he would soon have good reason to regret this desperate wish. Sleep avoided him for a very long time, the silvery Moon keeping him friendly company in his faithful vigil.

TBC


	2. Revelries at Nysa

TEMPLATE:

Title: FIC: I, Too Am Alexander ( 2 / 7 )

Author: NorthernLight

Category: Love/Friendship/Adventure story. Alternate History.

Pairing: Alexander&Hephaestion

Date: July 2005.

Feedback: Yes, all kinds, on or off list, as you please.

Archive: Yes, if you like, but please tell me.

Disclaimer: I don't own them. For entertainment only...hopefully. Not for gain - my work is for my deep interest in Alexander and Hephaestion, their time and adventures.

Rating: R

Beta: Denise. Many thanks for good discussions and suggestions.

Summary : After resting in Maracanda Alexander takes his army further into the East. They come to the Paradise of Nysa and decide to have a feast under the starlit sky. It turns into drunken revelry and orgiastic pleasure.

Warnings: This is AR, very close to but not "real" history. I wasn't invited to the feast at Nysa but wish I could have been there! Some of the events taking place there never happened but in my twisted imagination. Drunken revelry and orgiastic pleasure, leading to unpleasant consequences.

X-tra warning: As you might have seen before in my fics I have strong opinions about the hazards of heavy drinking. The demons of alcohol causes many tragedies in my country and I cannot resist some moralizing.

Historical note: Nysa is a real place, mentioned in the old sources about Alexander's campaigns. Arrian and Curtius tells about a wild feast taking place , with much drinking and pleasures in worship of Dionysos.

Dedication: To Denise. Thanks to your excellent and positive fic challenge about Alexander being kidnapped and Hephaestion taking over the army for a daring and dangerous rescue operation.

I, Too Am Alexander, Part II

Maracanda 327 BC

Morning came and went. Alexander was still sleeping, lying in a drunken stupor. Hephaestion didn't dare to move from his supportive position behind his back. He was now feeling most uncomfortable - but he must stay put. It was for the best if his Beautiful Golden One could sleep off the unpleasant effects of his excessive drinking to be in a good mood when he woke up. Later in the afternoon the King rose from his bed, still unsteady from too much wine. Hephaestion got him a herbal infusion that used to be helpful and soothing. Alexander thanked him and drained the smoking cup. After bathing and dressing himself in a white, purple rimmed chiton and the red royal cloak he ordered:

"Bring Cleitus to me immediately! I have something important to tell him!"

Hephaestion looked in vain for signs in the King's behavior. What would become of Cleitus after mouthing all those horrible insults the evening before? He told the guards to fetch the General immediately, trembling in fear. Alexander was dangerous in his drunken recklessness - but even worse when stone cold sober. Stefanos and Alexios returned with Cleitos between them. The culprit held his head high, looking confidently around him. Alexander was sitting in his finely adorned armchair. He greeted the General.

"Well, Cleitus, what shall become of you? I've never in my whole life heard such bad language at table!"

"It was the truth, my King. Nothing but the truth! I can't take it back. Someone had to tell you."

Suddenly he was on his knees, ardently pleading:

" You must pardon me! I live only to serve you - and your father before you. Don't dismiss me to dwell amongst those Bactrians! I don't like them - and I don't think they'll like me and my outspoken manners!"

Alexander pondered his words for a long time, chin in hand, letting the older man remain on his knees. At long last he answered, in a very serious manner.

"You are right, my old friend. The Bactrians might not like you - but many Macedonians do. I have always listened to your sound advice! There are too many sycophants and flatterers around me and too few really honest men! You are not old enough for retirement yet! I need you when we march for India!"

Alexander rose from his armchair and forcibly lifted Cleitus from the floor, embracing him. Both men were crying and sincerely pardoning each other. Hephaestion looked at them in confusion, glad that once in a while Alexander's strange mood swings guided him into making the right decision!

Rock of Chorienes 327 BC

The mighty warlord Chorienes sat looking at the magnificent view from his impregnable mountain castle. He was not afraid of the foreign invaders, reckoning that he could sit safely on his high rock letting them march by to harass someone less fortunate. A warm fire roared in the open fireplace and he looked into it, stroking his long gray beard with his callused hand. He was a big, strong and impressive man, not yet weakened by old age. Someone knocked upon his door. A servant came before him, hesitant and trembling. He fell upon his knees and Chorienes asked him:

"What is it, Karagoz?" Are the invaders coming near?"

"No, my Lord. not yet. There is someone else to see you..." "Let them in. I'm not afraid of anything!"

His faithful guards came, seeing a fearsome delegation inside. It consisted of a whole band of fierce mountain bandits. They were overwhelmed by their leader, a mighty Scythian warrior with magnificent long red hair finely braided and impressive armor adorned with much exquisite golden details. A necklace in heavy gleaming gold adorned his muscular neck, a blood red ruby glaring ominously at all party. It was Ohrlasz, the mighty Scythian warlord, the only one who had managed to escape from the conquering King Alexander and his horrible army alive and with his own army intact to fight another day. They had met twice, the first time at the Danube, the second time in the hostile desert beyond the Jaxartes. Two bitter fights, with many casualties on both sides...

Chorienes let his clear, calculating yellow eyes rest upon him for a long time before speaking. The Scythians gleaming, cat green orbs met his gaze with cunning contempt. Chorienes felt a cold hand of merciless iron clutch around his brave old heart. This was a very dangerous man. He shrugged away his fear and addressed the unexpected visitor:

"Ohrlasz, I take it. I have heard many impressive things of you. Why do you seek me out? I have no quarrel with you, nor with anyone else. "

"Your people and your lands are threatened. Sikandar is marching against you with his whole army. You sit here cowardly and snugly in your formidable fort and let him pass by - but you do nothing to help your people against his pillaging and harassment. "

"Whatever made that your concern? Armies come, armies pass. My people will prevail as they always has. "

The Scythian continued his address, his green eyes glowing with hatred:

"I have a grudge against Sikandar. He is the only one who has managed to defeat me and scatter my brave warriors away. I want to get rid of him once and for all!"

"Don't we all! It's no easy thing to get hold of him. For that we need to conquer all of his horrible army - and it has grown both bigger and more dangerous over the years. "

"This time I don't plan on open combat. I have seen the futility of that twice already! No, I will rely on his one weakness - his excessive drinking! "

"Yes, everyone knows of that - but how do we get access to his person when dead drunk? He is closely guarded..."

"I have an infallible plan. Let us talk. "

"I will listen to you. Karagoz, bring us some wine and food. Serve me and Ohrlasz here at the fireplace. We will speak privately. "

Soon the fire burned red and ominous, enlightening plans and plotting fuming with ingenious evil.

Nysa 327 BC

The whole army had been marching along under the hot Persian sun for several days . Supplies were getting scarce, water even more. What little they had must be purified with vinegar to be fit for drinking. The steppe was dry and dusty and clouds of choking yellow earth surrounded them, making it difficult to see and breathe. Hephaestion rode at the side of his Beautiful Golden One, General Cleitus at his other side. They enjoyed their places of honor even more after the happy reunion - but it had been some days filled with much hardship. All the men were most uncomfortable with their heavy armor and gear and suffered from thirst and fatigue. The heat was getting almost unbearable and the few sips of vinegar water they could allow themselves from their canteens only made it worse. The air was quivering from excessive heat waves and they found themselves reeling in their saddles. The horses were also suffering and Bucepalos and Castor gave each other sulky looks, wondering when they were to find some decent food, drink and rest. A wonderful cool breeze wafted towards them, soothing their fevered brows. When they looked around they saw that the burned, red and yellow grass and dry herbs had been replaced by a thick carpet of lush light and emerald green grass, flourishing bush like herbs and flowers of all kinds and colors. A verdant forest rich with foliage beckoned in front of them and they heard the refreshing and rippling sound of moving water. There was a mountain slope with several springs and creeks throwing themselves down with sparkling beauty. Grapes grew in abundance in beautiful vineyards everywhere and one could hear the friendly bleating of sheep and goats. Alexander gave his army a sign to halt, telling them:

"Let's make camp here on this soft meadow. Sent out scouts and guards to secure our surroundings. "

The scouts came back with amazing news.

"My Lord, there is wild ivy growing everywhere in the forest. We haven't seen it for a very long time! What is this place?"

"Don't you worry. The wild ivy is favored by Dionysos. It is a good sign for us. "

Camp was now ready set with Alexander's big and comfortable tent in it's middle. The King was sitting on a simple camp stool, dusty and travel stained, still wearing his armor, his helmet on his head and a spear in his hand. He was waiting for his servants to prepare a refreshing bath - and then an even more refreshing meal for all of them. The local supplies seemed most ample - especially the vineyards. Stefanos entered:

"My Lord, there are some locals wanting to have some words with you. "

"Send them in, Stefanos. I should be glad to know what this place is called. "

A delegation of thirty distinguished men came before him, led by a venerable elder with soft snow white beard and hair. They looked with terror and surprise at his warlike appearance and prostrated themselves upon the ground in trembling silence. He let them be for a long time before he beckoned:

"My friends, do not be afraid. I come to you with peaceful intentions. You may rise and answer my questions. Who are you - and what is this unusual place called?"

The venerable elder rose with great difficulty together with the rest of the delegation.

" My Lord, I am Acuphis, the chief here. This is Nysa at the slopes of Mount Merus, founded by Dionysos and named after him as a memorial of his journeys and victories in Asia. If you want proof of my sayings just look around you. This is the only place in Asia where ivy grows - and Dionysos planted our fine vineyards all by himself. His very special grapes have given us rich harvests up till now. It's the finest wine in all of Asia. You really must taste it - and all of our hospitality. "

Alexander soon made friends with Acuphis and all of his men and promised them that they would remain in freedom as before. He liked to hear the tales of Dionysos over and over again and looked forward to surpassing the God's impressive journeys and victories in Asia. The army got a well deserved rest and enjoyed the generous hospitality of the friendly people. Nysa and Mount Merus was one of the most beautiful places in whole Asia, it's food succulent and nourishing - and gifted with strong, sweet flavored red wine. They remained far longer than intended, and were feeling strong resentment when the time for departure approached.

Drunken Revelry

There was still a place Alexander wanted to explore. He ordered his servants and the friendly villagers of Nysa to bring food and wine in a procession to the slopes of Mount Merus. There was a wonderful grove where ivy and laurel grew in abundance in a dense woodland full of game of all kinds for hunting. The Macedonians were delighted with the wonders of the place and made wreaths of the ivy to put on their heads. They sang songs of praise to Dionysos and offered sacrifice on the sacred spot. Alexander presided over the sacred ceremonies with solemn piety. He silently thanked the God for staying his hand and preventing him from committing a most foul murder.

All afternoon went, in worship of the God. When evening grew near, Alexander invited them all to a feast in honor of Dionysos in his very special place. He stood there proud and strong, brightened by the warm scarlet rays of the setting sun. The sky over the verdant foliage was flaming and overwhelmed by crimson colors, making a spectacular background for the King's banquet. His beautiful golden hair was flowing like a river of gold down his mighty shoulders, resting on the back of his shining white chiton. He wore a sparkling diamond on his brow and a golden belt around his waist. His faithful guards formed a protective wall around him. Hephaestion dwelt in his shadow, close to his Beautiful Golden One. He had been taking good care of Alexander after the ominous banquet, even managed to keep him from strong wine and excessive drinking. This drinking party was something necessary to encourage the troops - and one must certainly take advantage of such a wonderful place with such well temperated climate. The King addressed his men with his most generous hospitality :

"Welcome to this party, my dear friends and my invincible army! I invite you to an exquisite banquet - a lavish feast upon succulent meats, fresh vegetables, sweet and ripe fruits - and wine in abundance. Eat and drink and amuse yourselves. Soon we march for India. Our campaign will be long and hard. I need you well rested and encouraged before we start!"

Long trestle tables were already laid for the whole army and all ate with a hearty appetite and drank the strong red wine, feeling thirsty after all the long worship ceremonies. The talk was friendly and courage and positive expectations was soaring over the company. When the sweetmeats and deserts had been served with untempered wine all party left the tables and started dancing over the soft emerald green meadows, singing songs of praise to Dionysos. Cries of "Euoi, Euoi, Bacchae!" reverberated all over the surroundings and the King led them in the happy dancing, feeling safe and secure with his friends and faithful men. All made merry until they split up in twos and threes, hands around waists and shoulders, walking all over the countryside. They stretched themselves out in the lush emerald green grass amongst many colored fragrant flowers. Soon they embraced each other and grass, flowers and the fertile earth became the most exquisite bed of pleasures. A young and beautiful boy watched them from a distance, his fair face lit up by a mischievous smile. He was playing the pipes, at first a merry dancing tune, then changing into slow and languorous sounds, accompanying the many moans and sighs of satisfaction reverberating around the countryside.

Under The Old Oak

The Persian night was hot, enveloping all in a soft mantle of dark velvet. The stars were shining bright like sparkling diamonds, the silvery full moon presiding over them, proudly soaring high above the emerald green meadows and dark green dungeons. Wild ivy overflowed the trees and cliffs and all kinds of flowers shone in abundance in the silvery light from the skies. Hephaestion put his arm around Alexander's waist and told him with deep longing:

"Let's find a place apart from all others. It has been a very long time since we came together. Now I want you for myself!"

Alexander reeled drunkenly against him, stroking his hip expectantly.

"You'll have me, my sweet Hephaestion, be sure of that! Look over there! It seems we have found our Royal Oak!"

An enormous, thousand year old oak was looming over them. It looked as if it had stood there since the dawn of days, its crown was reaching for the sky, all adorned by silvery stars. The thick roots were spreading out, forming a ready made Lover's bed, complete with soft emerald green grass as a mattress and fragrant herbs growing in tufts as cushions. Alexander stumbled once more, falling towards his friend. Hephaestion took him in his strong arms and lifted him from the ground, soon placing him on the beckoning grass bed.

"Here you are, my dear one. Why must you always drink far too much for your own good? It's lucky for us that I always manage to stay sober!"

Alexander gave him a hearty and inviting laughter:

"Yes, and I'm the better for it. Now, you stop scolding me and come to me instead! This night is far from over..."

The venerable old oak welcomed the beautiful pair, embracing them with Nature's own grace and warmth. Hephaestion opened his arms for his Beautiful Golden One

A Moment Of Inattention

Hephaestion felt completely exhausted from the many pleasures of the velvet Persian night. He was warm and soaking with sweat all over. His Beautiful Golden One lay in the soft emerald green grass, resting, well sated from their wonderful lovemaking. He was soundly asleep, his face flushed from too much wine and too much ardent love play. Hephaestion gently shook him and proposed:

"Come with me to the creek for a swim. You'll feel the better for it. "

No answer. He wrapped his friend in his scarlet summer mantle. The night was getting a bit chilled towards dawn and Alexander must be protected against the cold when he was in his drunken stupor. Stefanos and Alexios were sitting under an oak close nearby, happily drinking and caressing each other. He gave them stern orders:

"Now the party is over! See to the King's safety immediately! I will be back soon. "

The faithful guards rose reluctantly but soon realized that they were truly needed. They took their spears and posted themselves on the sides of the old oak, closely protecting King Alexander from all evil. Hephaestion went down to the creek. It's cold, clear water was rippling invitingly and he quickly undressed and threw himself into it. He washed himself and swum around for a long time. When he got up he was feeling wonderfully cooled down and refreshed. The heat of the Persian night dried the water dripping from his long auburn hair and muscular body and he soon could dress again and return to the old oak. He went casually walking on the soft grass, looking forward to a long and good slumber at his Loved One's side.

Upon returning, he immediately felt that something was wrong, very wrong. The air was far too still and no guards were visible at the sides of the old oak. He swiftly ran there, seeing Stefanos and Alexios collapsed in a drunken stupor, their backs resting against the sturdy oak stem. Worriedly, he looked at the former Lover's nest between the tree roots, expecting to find Alexander in the same sad state. The sight that met him was worse than that - far worse.

His Beautiful Golden One was gone!

TBC


	3. Imprisonment!

TEMPLATE:

Title: FIC: I, Too Am Alexander ( 3 / 7 )

Author: NorthernLight

Category: Love/Friendship/Adventure story. Alternate History.

Pairing: Alexander&Hephaestion Date: August 2005.

Feedback: Yes, all kinds, on or off list. Archive: Yes, if you like, but please tell me.

Disclaimer: I don't own them , though I wish I did! Not for gain - my work is for my deep interest in Alexander and Hephaestion, their time and adventures.

Rating: R

Beta: Denise. Many thanks for good discussions and suggestions.

Summary : After resting in Maracanda Alexander takes his army further into the East. They come to the Paradise of Nysa and have a feast under the starlit sky. It turns into drunken revelry and orgiastic pleasure. When everyone is senseless Alexander is kidnapped by a band of cunning mountain bandits. He wakes up imprisoned by a former Formidable Foe in an unpleasant and inaccessible place where rescue seems impossible.

Warnings: Angst, unpleasant imprisonment, attempted indecencies, withdrawal from wine and some really horrible nightmares. This is AR, close to but not "real" history.

Historical note: The Rock of Chorienes is a real place, being besieged by Alexander and his army on his way to India. Alexander was of course never imprisoned there.

Medical note: Sudden withdrawal from alcohol after prolonged use can cause horrible hallucinations and it could be dangerous for the "patient".

Dedication: To Denise. Thanks to your excellent and positive fic challenge about Alexander being kidnapped and Hephaestion taking over the army for a daring and dangerous rescue operation.

I, Too Am Alexander Part III

Nysa, 327 BC

Beautiful Dream

It truly was a wonderful party, even surpassing the splendors of Babylon. Never before had Alexander managed to stage such glorious entertainments. Dionysos must have forgiven him his past regressions and truly blessed his further endeavors. All was perfect, food, drink, wine, entertainment and his faithful friends and victorious army all around him enjoying it all. They had all they wanted, beautiful women and boys, music, dancing, pleasures far beyond everyone's wildest expectations. The friendly environments offered them the wonders of nature at it's very best, embracing them in the luxuriant green foliage and fragrances of all kinds of flowers, trees and bushes. The wild ivy was growing in abundance all over the place, forming garlands enhancing the festivities. In the midst of it all he went away, his True Steadfast Friend at his side. His feet were strangely disconnected with the rest of his body and he had to rely on Hephaestion's strong support as he stumbled and staggered amongst the fragrant flowers and rich foliage. A pair of clinging rosebushes had by some Nature's whim grown together at their tops, forming a triumphs's arch for them to pass under. Their crimson petals made him think of love and war at the same time. An old oak tree towered all over them, beautifully adorned with intricately woven garlands of wild ivy in all patterns of green and white. There his feet abandoned him completely and he found himself falling precipitately towards the green grass, He was immediately caught by Hephaestion and carried to the old oak. Alexander was feeling completely secure and well protected, resting in warmth and comfort in his friends strong and reliable arms.

The venerable old tree offered them a secluded Lover's Bed between its sturdy roots It had been a long time since they had enjoyed such blissful privacy. Everyone was occupied with their own pleasures , no one saw them embracing, melting into each other. The soft green grass felt like the softest cushions around them and the many colored flowers wafted to and fro, giving away the most wonderful clouds of sweet smelling fragrances. The hot Persian night formed into a protective shield of velvety darkness. Alexander felt himself rocking to and fro, Hephaestion holding and embracing him, strong and tender at the same time. He had been denying his True Steadfast Friend these pleasures for a very long time. The troubles of war and campaigns had come between them, and then an endless row of drinking parties, craving more and more time to recuperate. Now Hephaestion took advantage of this moment of complete bliss and security, giving all his love, abandoning himself to those feelings that had been restrained for far too long. Alexander saw the silvery moon and the stars dancing around between the branches of the old oak tree, a true dance of love and rapture, making him senseless, sinking into a warm sea of the most wonderful pleasures...

Nauseous Nightmare

A brutal jerk woke him up. The rocking and rolling was truly violent - and he was encompassed by overwhelming darkness. He felt the coldness of chains and metal cuffs on wrists and ankles, and he was shut up in some kind of foul smelling sack, hanging upside down over a constantly moving something, smelling strongly of horses. The clattering of hooves was all around him, assailing his tender ears. His head was hurting something awful, copper hammers all over its inside and outside. Then he got violently sick, feeling all the wine and rich food of yesterday's party overwhelming him in the most horrible and humiliating manner. Afterwards he was cold and shivering, completely exhausted and empty from endless vomiting. What kind of awful nightmare was this? Where was Hephaestion? His True Steadfast Friend was supposed to protect him from the awkward after effects of his reckless drinking... A cloud of darkness swallowed his brain, cold sweat washed all over him and he was sinking deep down into an ocean of unmerciful loneliness.

Brutal Awakening

Alexander was awakening, sensing his surroundings. He had been carelessly tossed over a horseback, indignantly put in chains and thrown into a sack. A cold wind assailed him through the foul smelling fabric and he felt the horse going up, and up and up... A harsh well known voice rasped over his pounding head:

"At long last we have Sikandar at our mercy - and now his horrible army cannot come to his rescue. They will never survive the poisoned wine our friends in Nysa served them! That outrageous party was their very last debauchery! "

An older, more well versed voice made comments:

" I'm really impressed by your clever plan, Ohrlasz. All our foes eliminated in one single stroke - and no casualties of our own!"

"I'm really amazed it was so easy. Wherever was Sikandar's faithful friend? That Wonder of Virtues never leaves his side. We will not feel secure until I know what became of Hephaestion!"

Ohrlasz! He would recognize the Schythian warlord everywhere. He had met this Formidable Foe twice, at the Danube and beyond the Jaxartes. Both times he had barely escaped with his life. Alexander wished he were back under the old oak tree...

The Rock of Chorienes, 327 BC

Despairing Captivity

Alexander was thrown on a hard stone floor. The foul smelling sac was removed.

"Careful, careful. He is the most dangerous man in all Persia! Don't let him get at you!"

Alexander saw some bearded, rough men handling him brutally, dragging him to a stone bench with a layer of rotten straw. They locked his chains to the wall and then left him, slamming and locking a sturdy wooden door after them. He had been thrown into a chamber with cold stone walls, dripping from stale water and mildew. A window with strong iron bars let in some pale day light and unmerciful mountain winds. He had not the faintest idea where he might be - only that it must be somewhere high up in the mountains. The things he had heard on the way up to his gloomy prison were most dismal. He hoped against all hope that the Scythian had been lying. All his friends and his whole army couldn't have succumbed to such infamous plans. He lay down on the stone bench, still feeling nauseous from the awkward transport. His head ached abominably and all the world was tossing and turning around him. He closed his eyes, imagining himself in all his Kingly splendor, back in Hephaestion's faithful embrace, his friends all around him , reveling in the velvet Persian night, their unconquered army forming a secure wall around them. All these wonders would be back when he awakened. His present misfortunes must be a nightmare brought upon him by too much wine and rich, indigestible food.

A torrent of cold water flew over him. He looked up at the same wet and mildewed stone walls, seeing the red haired Scythian war chief glaring at him, at a safe distance:

"Sikandar, you are most welcome to my hospitality! You will get all that you deserve for harassing and tormenting so many innocent people!"

"Ohrlasz! Where am I? You will not get aways with this! Hephaestion and my army will move heaven and earth to find me!"

"Yes, I'm sure they would - but your fine and virtuous friend simply wasn't there when we found you dead drunk under that old oak tree - and you have seen the last of your mighty army. We have some good friends in Nysa. The wine was poisoned. They will never wake up from their revelries! You are completely at my mercy!"

He opened the door widely and shouted: "Come here, my brave brigands! You may all take your pleasure from him!"

Alexander saw a whole band of savage mountain bandits pouring inside his dreary dungeon, arranging themselves in a half circle around him. They had long, dark unwashed hair and long beards and their brown and yellow eyes looked at him with unbridled lust. They were actually drooling from longing to subject him to the worst kinds of humiliation and indecencies. He steadied himself and looked calmly at them, sitting straight at his hard stone bench as if it were a golden throne, resting upon the rotten straw as if it were a golden laced purple cushion, envisioning himself dressed in gold and Royal purple.

"Well, my gentlemen. Do your worst to me. I'm not afraid of any of your weapons. "

The mountain bandits saw Sikandar, their worst nightmare, their most Formidable Foe, sitting calm and unafraid in his awkward surroundings. He was dressed in a simple white shirt of harsh wool, barefoot and bareheaded, unwashed and severely weakened from the difficult travel. Heavy chains restrained him and bound him hand and foot, throwing him completely at their mercy. He was the most beautiful man they had ever seen, well built, fine determined features, beautiful golden hair rising and falling in curly waves like a lion's mane from his high held head. His gray eyes shone with a serene radiance, filled with cold and distant contempt - and then he was surrounded by a warm golden light, its rays searing and burning them. All the mountain bandits felt themselves getting limp and totally impotent. It was quite impossible for them to ravage their valuable prisoner.

Alexander saw his enemies leave his cell. He was pleased that not all of his power had left him - but it was a futile victory. He was still a prisoner. Where was Hephaestion and his friends? They should have set after him long ago - never let him be carried away into such indignities. Ohrlasz must have told him the truth. They were all dead and gone - never to come to his rescue. He let his aching head drop between his knees, holding his hands around his temples. Hot tears ran over his cheeks, washing all over him, drowning him in a river of sorrowful despair.

Misbehaving Food

Alexander was both hungry and thirsty. He had never felt such starvation in his whole life, not even when at the mercy of his stern tutor Leonidas. There was one bread every morning, nothing else. It was hard as stone and gray as clay, tasting far worse than it looked. He got an ample supply of fresh cool mountain water and was allowed to drink as much as he liked - but what good was that. His craving was for wine - and wine alone! He sorely missed the royal table and his endless supply of wine jugs. Even the rough army cooking was a wonderful treat in comparison to this drudgery. After seven hard days in his lonesome cell he was so hungry that even the stone hard loaf his gaolers brought him promised to be a succulent feast.

His stomach growled as he looked at the hard gray lump of bread with famished desire. He grabbed for it, awkwardly with his chained hands. The loaf escaped him, tittering annoyingly . It was an evil loaf, watching him with malevolently glaring yellow eyes. A mouth filled with sharp razor like fangs snapped at his fingers. Screaming he wafted it away, turning instead to the stone jug with water, suddenly feeling very thirsty. To his pleasure it smelled of rich red wine, as good as the strong brandy he always kept in a jug at his side, for dire emergencies. He lifted the jug to his lips and gulped down the wonderful red liquid, expecting it to give him warmth, strength and comfort in his present misfortune.

His disappointment was horrible. As soon as the brandy touched his lips it was transformed. He felt the vile, contaminated water from that standing pool far beyond the Jaxartes rushing down his parched throat. It choked him and made him retch in self defense. With complete disgust he threw the stone jug away so violently that it shattered all over the floor. Now the evil loaf of bread assaulted him once more, creeping towards him, nibbling at his fingers, its glaring yellow eyes watching him with contempt. A small, cold voice addressed him:

"Sikandar! You are nothing without your True Steadfast Friend and your army - and they are all dead and gone! You will perish in this dreary dungeon, missed by none. All the people of Persia will rejoice! "

The evil loaf jumped up and down, tittering annoyingly. It started to batter him on his head and back with strokes harder than stone. He would carry the bruises for a long time. Alexander started screaming.

Deceptive Dream

Alexander lay shivering under a thin threadbare blanket. Hunger and thirst had weakened him severely and his inside felt like a cold, dark hole eating away at him. Sleep avoided him for a long time. He was tormented by anguished thoughts of his friends and his army. Where were they now? He hadn't heard anyone besieging the fort. Perhaps they didn't even know where he was. Perhaps they really were dead and gone. He drifted into an anguished slumber, tossing to and fro, feeling the cruel shackles tearing into his wrists and ankles.

/ A strong callused hand gently stroke his back, going up his tense neck and shoulders and then started to play with his golden curls. He turned his head, looking into the wonderful blue eyes of his True Steadfast Friend.

"Alexander. You must not give in to despair. I'm working so hard to come to your rescue. Come to me now. Please let me comfort you. "

Strong arms embraced him, soft auburn hair washed over his chin and chest and he felt a warm and muscular body against his own cold and shivering frame. He gave a deep moan from the most exquisite pleasure and melted into the arms of his Loved One. The dear voice was compelling him:

"Alexander! Look at me now. Look at me! "

He opened his eyes - staring into two empty sockets of a mouldering scull. He was holding a heap of sorrowful bones in his arms. The scull opened its mouth, filled with rattling fangs. A cold, unmerciful voice told him: "Sikandar! You will never escape from this place. Only Death will give you freedom! " /

Alexander awoke screaming so hard his throat was raw. He screamed until he almost choked, and then started to cry in long, anguished sobs.

King's Ransom

Chorienes and Ohrlasz was sitting near to the hearth, enjoying a meal of succulent lamb, onions and fresh herbs. They washed it down with strong red wine, warming themselves with soft furs spread in their comfortable chairs.

"Ohrlasz. Why did you tell Sikandar that we poisoned all his friends and army? It is not true - and now he is giving in to despair. I fear he might die before we get all the gold we have demanded. "

"Do not worry, Chorienes. Our Royal guest is strong and stubborn. He will not die on us. We can sit here calmly and wait for his friends to bring us ten times his weight in pure gold. It is truly a King's ransom we demand for Sikandar - and - we will never let him return to them alive! "

The fire leaped up in threatening red orange flames, glittering in two pairs of greedy eyes, glaring yellow and emerald green.

Utter Despair

Alexander was alone, cold and starving in his dreary dungeon. No one seemed to know about his plight and he had no hope of rescue. He had been a mighty King, Lord of Persia, Greece and Macedon. Now he was nothing but a poor prisoner, revered by no one - not even the malevolent loafs on his meager table. Hot tears streamed from his weary eyes and he succumbed to despair, futilely rattling his restraining shackles until he felt the last of his strength leaving him. He curled up on the rugged straw mattress on his hard stone bench and at long last fell into a deep, death-like sleep. Where was Hephaestion?

TBC


	4. Aftermath of the Revelries

TEMPLATE:

Title: FIC: I, Too Am Alexander ( 4 / 7 )

Author: NorthernLight

Category: Love/Friendship/Adventure story. Alternate History.

Pairing: Alexander & Hephaestion.

Date: September 2005.

Feedback: Yes, all kinds, on or off list.

Archive: Yes, if you like, but please tell me. Archivated in the ATG Slash&Fanfic Yahoo Groups.

Disclaimer: I don't own them. Not for gain - my work is for my deep interest in Alexander and Hephaestion, their time and adventures.

Rating: R Beta: Denise. Many thanks for good discussions and suggestions.

Summary : After resting in Maracanda Alexander takes his army further into the East. They come to the Paradise of Nysa and decide to have a feast under the starlit sky. It turns into drunken revelry and orgiastic pleasure. With everyone senseless from heavy drinking Alexander is kidnapped by a band of cunning mountain bandits. Hephaestion has a hard awakening, finding his Beautiful Golden One cruelly stolen away from him, taken into captivity to an unknown and inaccessible place. Meeting strong opposition from all his detractors he has to unite the whole army for a bold rescue party. He will have to call upon all his strength and diplomacy for this impossible mission.

Warnings: This is AR, very close to but not "real" history. Angst, intrigue, quarrels and adversities.

Historical notes: The Rock of Chorienes is a real place, being besieged by Alexander and his army on his way to India. Alexander was of course never imprisoned there. In the movie the famous scene where Hephaestion is mistaken for King Alexander comes in Babylon, after Gaugamela, with the Princess Stateira making the mistake. In "real" history this happens after the Battle of Issos and it is Old Queen Sisygambis, King Darius' Mother, who makes the mistaken Prostration before Hephaestion instead of King Alexander.

Dedication: To Denise. Thanks to your excellent and positive fic challenge about Alexander being kidnapped and Hephaestion taking over the army for a daring and dangerous rescue operation.

I, Too Am Alexander, Part IV

"Not even when they were feasting and were drowsy with drink did the enemy venture to attack them - being just as terrified by their uproarious reveling and yelling as if what they had heard was the Macedonian battle-crying. "

Quintus Curtius

Author's Note: This old Roman was right of course, when writing his real history of Alexander. My story is AR and anything can happen...

Nysa 327 BC

Futile Search

"Alexander! Alexander! Where are you? "

Hephaestion was looking everywhere, against all hope. Alexander might have wandered away and stumbled upon something in the rough terrain. Perhaps he lay hurt and lonely someplace else. It wasn't probable. Hephaestion knew very well that his friend couldn't have walked far away, being completely senseless from all his drinking - and Alexander never stumbled or fell, however drunk he became. He searched the bushes and the woods thoroughly all around the old oak tree. Nature's beauty escaped his otherwise keen senses and all the wonderful wild ivy came in his way, making him stumble all the time. Alexander was nowhere to be found.

Peritas and Pollux came to him, heads hanging, tails between their legs. Alexander's and his own watchful dogs had been seduced by the pleasurable partying of last night and gone chasing after some beautiful bitches in heat. He sternly reproached them:

"You two! Where were you when Alexander needed you? Help me now! Find the King for me! "

They ran off, searching all the wood as best as they were able to - but sadly nothing, no one was found. The two faithful dogs returned to their master, sorrowfully wailing. Beside himself with worry he returned to the old oak, trying to shake the guards awake. It was impossible. Stefanos and Alexios were far from their usual vigilance. They didn't respond to his cries of anger and worry, were just lying there completely senseless, their heads lolling to and fro. They seemed to have been drugged. Hephaestion raised his head. Now he saw the blood stained parchment wafting from the old oak stem, nailed into the venerable tree with a sharp dagger. In alarm he pulled out the dagger and rolled out the parchment, reading with difficulty in the bleak dawn. It was written in poor Greek, with awkward letters and spelling. The message was clear and cruel:

"We have your precious King and Commander and have taken him to an inaccessible place. You will get him back if you place ten big coffers filled with gold and precious jewels for us at the glen with the clear springs, deep into the woods of Nysa. You will then withdraw your troops at a far distance from here, never more to harass our people. In three days time Sikandar will be returned to you. "

It was signed: Defenders of the Oppressed, in big, sharp letters, written down in someone's blood.

Remorse And Encouragement

Hephaestion looked at the ominous parchment in utter disbelief. How could this have happened? His Alexander had been stolen away from him in the midst of his army, with all his guards around him. He hurried to sound the alarm, only to find all their men lying senseless in a drunken heap on the beautiful meadow. In the bleak dawn the beauty of the place only seemed to mock him. The wild ivy fluttered with an ice cold mountain wind and the many colored flowers made him feel dizzy with their clouds of sweet smelling fragrances. No one was awake, no one sober enough to be of assistance in this dire need. He ran around, trying to shake the generals and soldiers awake. No one responded to his ardent pleas. It was as if they had been given some strong sleeping potion or soporific poison. What if they never were to wake up?

He ran around for a long time, working hard to rise the Macedonian army. When the sun had risen far above the horizon glaring down at him with merciless heat he was completely out of breath and his arms and legs trembled from fatigue and futile efforts. He simply couldn't go on any longer. His legs gave way under him and he slumped down on a moss covered boulder, letting his head fall between his legs. Hot tears of anxiety and desperation begun falling from his eyes, down his cheeks and between his tense fingers. The wild ivy was coiling like shackles around his feet, reminding him all the more of his impossible mission. Hephaestion felt like he was the only one sober on all Earth - and his inner demons made him wish he too were dead drunk.

Two strong hands grasped his tensed and troubled shoulders, giving him gentle caresses and a soothing massage.

"My beautiful general, what are you doing away from the King? I saw you both, having such a good time under the old oak tree. It's a wonder it still stands straight. "

General Cleitus, in a teasing mood as usual. Hephaestion smashed his fingers, roaring:

"Let go of me, you old scoundrel! We are in serious trouble. Alexander has been kidnapped - and I have no idea how we will find him and get him back!"

The old general asked, while scratching his head:

"Kidnapped? What do you mean by that? We're in the midst of a whole army - and he has his own vigilant guards! "

"Not now. They are dead drunk and I cannot wake them up. It seems you and I are the only ones awake and ready - and we must act immediately. Take a look at this!"

General Cleitus read the ominous message with great difficulty, squinting and red eyed from far too much strong wine.

"What does this insanity mean? They cannot have taken him away from us!"

"I cannot find him anywhere. I left him sleeping under the old oak when I went for a swim in the cold creek, thinking the guards would be enough to keep him secure. He didn't want to come with me. Damn me and my indulgence. I should have dragged him away with me. Then this disaster would never have occurred. !"

He once more slumped down on the mossy boulder and held his head into his hands, crying out in utter desolation:

"Oh, my Alexander. Whatever shall we do without you?"

General Cleitus grabbed his right shoulder and dragged him up on his feet once more.

"Stop moping around like a love sick maiden. You are the most intelligent and resourceful of all the King's generals. Now show it to me! Let's have some action! "

Sobering Up

They started at once, fetching buckets with cold water from the creek, running around dousing all the sleeping carousers. At first it didn't help at all and Hephaestion almost gave in to despair once more.

"Oh no. They have been poisoned by our enemies! However could I let this disaster strike us? I have always seen to everything. I arranged all the festivities. We were having such a good time...and then this!"

"Dont you worry so much. They are not poisoned, only dead drunk. Someone must have given us all the wine untempered. That's why it's so difficult to wake them up. We are lucky that you are always sober and I'm always drunk. Together we'll get the job done!"

It was hard work getting the whole army sober and on their feet and it took them all day long. In the evening all were sitting under the trees drinking cold water and herbal infusions. Many wild rumors were already running rampant and soon one serious question was on every man's lips:

"Where is King Alexander?"

Friendly Intelligence

Hephaestion and Cleitus had gathered all the Nyseans and were holding a stern interrogation. The poor villagers were so scared no one dared to tell them anything at all. At long last a young girl came forward, trembling and crying.

"You must not punish us, my Lord. They came, threatening to annihilate our whole city when you had marched along towards India if we didn't do as they commanded. They gave us sacks with strong poison, but we didn't administer it to you. "Sob" You have behaved decently towards us, not like other conquerors, neither harassed nor molested us. We didn't want to harm you so we just served all the wine untempered! Strange thing you didn't notice it. You just drank...and drank...and drank... "

Hephaestion listened to her tale with rising anger, at last making a determined request:

"Just who are they? And - no harm done! My...the King has been stolen away from us! I cannot think of anything more adverse!"

The young girl blanched and trembled.

"It was Ohrlasz the Scythian and Chorienes the Paraetacian, my Lord. They must have taken King Alexander to the Rock of Chorienes. "Sob" You'll never get him back from there. The fort is impregnable, only one way up and the mountain impossible to climb!"

She trembled and sobbed, falling on her knees before Hephaestion. He got up and gently lifted her to her feet.

"Don't be afraid, little one. If you have told us the truth I'll see to it that you get richly rewarded. Your name?"

"Alyssa, my Lord. "

Dark Reproach

Ohrlasz! Hephaestion shuddered at the very mentioning of the Scythian warlord. He had caused the Macedonians endless troubles in the past, at the Danube and at the Jaxartes. Alexander had almost been taken away from his True Steadfast Friend at both occasions. The horrible memories brought about visions of his Beautiful Golden One, in his arms, in his lap, seriously damaged and severely ill, only his Good Fortune bringing him back to life. Where was Alexander now? How did he fare at the mercy of his most dangerous enemy ? Would he even survive long enough to be rescued? Hephaestion felt himself burdened down by endless reproach. He was always thorough and vigilant in his constant care for Alexander, their friends and the Macedonian army. Why had he let his guard down and let himself be deceived by the false friendliness of the Nyseans? Now Alexander might be suffering horrible torments at the hands of his most cunning and cruel enemy - and all this because of an inexcusable moment of inattention. He didn't want that fate even for his worst detractors!

Struggle For Power

The War Council was collected with all Alexander's generals sitting around an oval table in the King's tent. Hephaestion was sitting at one end with Ptolemy and Cleitus at his side. At the other end Craterus, Cassander and Eumenes sat glaring at him. He looked back at them, trying to be as calm as possible.

"We are in serious trouble. King Alexander has been abducted and we have some outrageous demands about a King's ransom and withdrawal of our whole army. We must make some swift decisions about our next path of action. "

He read the parchment aloud to them, outrageous demands and all. Then he told them what young Alyssa had revealed. They all turned white at the thought of Ohrlasz and past horrors. Craterus asked him with a sneer:

"How could this abduction have been possible? You were inseparable, walking away to the old oak. I thought you were more reliable than that! "

Hephaestion gave him a look filled with reproach and sorrow:

"Don't make things worse. I know I should have been more watchful, seeing to the wine not being tampered with, staying with the King myself, watching the Nyseans more closely. Now matters are as they stand and we must do our best to right our many mistakes. "

Cassander yelled at him:

"Our mistakes...? You are the one to blame! If the King hadn't succumbed so willingly to your seductive tricks he would still be with us now! "

Hephaestion looked at him with cold contempt:

"I didn't hear that, my "friend". Let's return to our agenda!"

Eumenes gave him a mean look:

"Ten coffers with gold and precious jewels, you said. We don't have that much! It's more expensive than you think to keep this whole army on its feet. "

Hephaestion told him off:

"The King's ransom is our least trouble. Knowing Ohrlasz I'm more worried about getting the King back alive at all, ransom or not! The Scythian is truly evil and time is of essence! I suggest we put the coffers with some resemblance of treasure at the glen. At the same time I will muster a hand picked troup of our most hardened fighters and best climbers, and then ride hard to the Rock of Chorienes. I've done some dangerous climbing before - and now it is more important than ever that we are successful. "

Cleitus supported him:

"It's the only way to go. Let's prepare ourselves immediately!. "

Craterus and Cassander had some serious objections:

"Hephaestion! Why is it obvious you are the one to be in charge for this rescue operation? We have been forced to climb dangerous rocks too Now it is our turn to get an important command!"

Hephaestion felt his mind being darkened by a black cloud of frustrated anger. No one was able to rescue his Beautiful Golden One, no one but himself! He rose from the table and slammed his fist into it so violently the wood started to shatter.

"Shut up, you two! Time is of the essence and we cannot argue amongst ourselves in this time of dire need! This operation demands both diplomacy and climbing abilities, and it seems I'm the only one in command of both!"

Never before had the High Command seen the beautiful General Hephaestion this furious. His wonderful blue eyes, usually so mild and benevolent were now blazing from a white cold anger, his calm features were blushing from a radiant inner fire and his auburn hair shone like a lion's mane around his broad shoulders. His detractors looked at him in terror, their ruthless demands melting like snow in a warm spring sun. they answered with trembling consent:

"Yes, General Hephaestion. Let's make immediate preparations. "

Now they fully understood why old Queen Sisygambis made the Prostration before Hephaestion, mistaking him for the King. He was the very likeness of Alexander himself, only with more calm and thoughtfulness. His cardinal features was diplomacy and patience - but when those failed him he was able to draw upon resources of overwhelming dark fire and energy. All the generals, even his worst detractors felt reassured that King Alexander's rescue operation was resting in the most capable hands.

Hephaestion marched away to muster his troop, his midnight blue cloak fluttering like an eagle's wings around him. Suddenly he felt a mild little hand grasping a fold of his cloak.

"General Hephaestion! Take me with you. Who knows what harm they might have done to our Alexander. He needs both of us now!"

Bagoas. Always kind and considerate, Alexander's well being the first thing on his mind. In the beginning Hephaestion had seen him as an annoying rival - but with passing time and adversities he had come to understand the finer qualities of Alexander's Little Dear One. The King needed both of them, for many different reasons. Now he halted in the midst of a forceful stride, letting his strong hands rest upon Bagoas' slender shoulders, looking down on his Persian beauty surrounded by that wonderful silken copper red hair.

"Yes. I know that by now, my little one - but during this rescue operation I will face worse dangers than you can ever imagine. Ohrlasz is our worst enemy, a truly Evil man. You were with us beyond the Jaxartes so you well know what he is capable of..."

Bagoas felt a cold hand of foreboding doom grasping his kind heart. He was not brave, neither strong and capable in combat and diplomacy as the General Hephaestion - but he truly loved the King of his Heart and knew he couldn't go on living without him. With faithful determination he gave his answer:

"My General. I've seen the Scythian and his evil deeds. My heart is filled with terror - but my love and friendship for King Alexander is greater that any fear of Evil Men. Please. You must take me with you!"

Hephaestion put his arm around his slender shoulders, gently stroking the silken hair.

"Yes. You may follow me to the Rock of Chorienes. Bring some knives - and also our satchel of healing herbs and ointments. But, please stay out of harm's way when it comes to actual combat. "

The two unusual companions went together to see to the preparations. Horses were collected, armor was overseen, plans were carefully discussed and ten coffers filled with mock treasure were prepared to be taken to the glen deep in the woods of Nysa. Far in the West the Rock of Chorienes stood proud and impregnable as the sun went down in a sea of crimson, glaring like an ominous red eye.

TBC


	5. Struggle for Power

TEMPLATE:

Title: FIC: I, Too Am Alexander ( 5 / WIP )

Author: NorthernLight

Category: Love/Friendship/Adventure story. Alternate History.

Pairing: Alexander&Hephaestion

Date: October 2005.

Archive: Archivated in the ATG Slash&Fanfic Yahoo Groups.

Feedback: Yes, all kinds, on or off list, as you please. Archive: Yes, if you like, but please tell me.

Disclaimer: I don't own them. Not for gain - my work is for my deep interest in Alexander and Hephaestion, their time and adventures.

Rating: R Beta: Denise. Many thanks for good discussions and suggestions.

Summary : After resting in Maracanda Alexander takes his army further into the East. They come to the Paradise of Nysa and decide to have a feast under the starlit sky. With everyone senseless from heavy drinking and carnal pleasure Alexander is kidnapped by a band of cunning mountain bandits and taken into captivity at the inaccessible Rock of Chorienes. Hephaestion has to use all his diplomacy and fighting skills to save him.

Warnings: This is AR, very close to but not "real" history. Alexander besieged the Rock of Chorienes but was of course never imprisoned there. Angst, violence, quarrels and adversities. Some really hard fighting in this chapter. Miracle cures I wished I had the exact recipes for but I don't!

Historical note: The Rock of Chorienes is a real place, being besieged by Alexander and his army on his way to India.

Dedication: To Denise. Thanks to your excellent and positive fic challenge about Alexander being kidnapped and Hephaestion taking over the army for a daring and dangerous rescue operation.

I, Too Am Alexander Part V

Rock Of Chorienes, 327 BC

Alexander sat on his hard and uncomfortable cot, looking at a bowl of meager gruel. It was simmering in a grayish yellow color and looked most unappetizing. None the less, it was the best food he had been served for several days and he had to eat to survive! Lifting the bowl he started to gulp it down, almost choking upon every distasteful sip. His hands were trembling and awkward with cold and cruel handcuffs with restraining chains tearing at his wrists. He washed the horrid meal down with cold mountain water, wishing it were mulled red wine or, better still, strong brandy.

Afterwards, he got up on unsteady legs, walking the few steps the constraining foot and chain shackles allowed him. Chains were rattling with an unnerving sound as he stretched his neck, trying to watch the sky through the barred window. The stone wall was three feet thick and he had great difficulties to see anything at all. Today he looked upon bright azure blue skies, filled with light feathery clouds. He dearly wanted to be out there, riding Bucephalus in front of his invincible army with Hephaestion close at his side. Where were his faithful friends and Companions now? They surely must be on their way, thinking of some brave and gallant plans to rescue him!

Nysa, 327 BC

Mock Treasure

Hephaestion and Cleitus were lying together under some thorny bushes, feeling the warmth of the afternoon sun seeping through the foliage. The wild ivy embraced them with tender but ornery tendrils, pestering them with itchy leaves. They couldn't brush them aside, couldn't even move. Their vigilant watch for the mock treasure was paying off at last. A band of rugged mountain bandits were closing in upon the ten coffers in the glen. When they saw the treasure waiting they gave up shouts of great joy and expectations. They quickly got off their small, rugged horses and pried the coffers open. At first they seemed satisfied enough with the gold and jewels at the top of the sacs containing only metal pieces similar to golden coins and silver drachmas and the bricks painted in glittering gold and silver color. The Nyseans had been most helpful in staging this clever deception. One of the bandits came forward and watched the treasure closely. He was an old man with long gray hair and beard, his clear and clever yellow eyes, deep set under a wrinkled brow. If he hadn't been one of their enemies, they would have found him most venerable - now his actions were only ominous. He took one of the sacs and opened it with a forceful ripping with his calloused hands. Then he bit into several of the mock coins, becoming more and more disappointed for every bite he took. At last, he forcefully threw the satchel to the ground and called out to his fellow culprits:

" This is no King's ransom! They have filled the coffers with mock treasure. Do they think we are daft enough to bee fooled by such a simple ruse? A curse upon them!"

He stamped the ground with a heavy, boot clad foot, calling out loud, right into the bushes:

" You there! I know you are listening! You have seen the last of your precious King Alexander. If he's not worth more to you than this mock treasure we'll not let him live much longer!"

He then turned his back on the coffers, leaping upon his rugged little horse with the vigor of a much younger man. The other bandits collected the valuables in one coffer and bound it tightly to one of their horses before they rode away, leaving clouds of yellow fog behind them. Macedonian scouts were following out of sight, without their knowledge.

Struggle For Power

Hephaestion rose from his uncomfortable position in the thorny bushes, dragging Cleitus up with him. He was swearing and cursing with pent up anger.

"Eumenes again! That fellow is truly mean. I told him to put enough real treasure on top of each coffer to really deceive those bandits. His stinginess got the best of him - as usual. "

Cleitus tried to calm him down:

" Didn't I tell you we should have done it ourselves! But - you were too busy sharpening your sword and packing for the rescue party. Now we really are in a fine fix. How on earth will we get the King back?"

Heavy steps made the ground shake. An angry voice filled the warm summer air:

"Hephaestion! You and your fabled diplomacy! Now we are in really serious trouble. If only I had been in charge all would have gone smoothly along! And - this calamity has been brought upon us because of your insatiable lusts. Had you but been able to leave the King alone, it would never have happened!"

Craterus and his vicious tongue, always finding faults, always resenting. Hephaestion had suppressed his anger for many years, his respect for Alexander the only thing holding him back. Now, with the king sadly away, he let loose all his feelings of hard and bitter resentment. The dark demons hidden deep inside rose to the surface at long last. He brandished his sword with lightning swiftness, screaming out loud:

"You! Always hating me, scolding me, being mean and envious, telling lies in the dark behind my back. Now you must face me like a man! "

"I'm not afraid of you - and I haven't said a thing behind your back that I haven't told you directly to your face Let's have at it! I'm the better warrior - the most able one to save our King!"

Craterus brandished his own sword. Cold steel was gleaming in the bright afternoon sun as the two combatants stalked each other like two ferocious animals, coming closer in circles of hatred and envy, turning into a bitter brew for a long time. Craterus was the first to lash out at his opponent, dealing a powerful blow from the side. Hephaestion avoided it narrowly and swords clashed with the ominous ringing sound of steel against steel. Soon they were dancing around, slashing, parrying, dealing powerful blows and strokes in an interminable struggle. The air around them was brimming with bitter hatred and resentment, a brew so thick one could have sliced it into pieces with an axe or knife. All the soldiers heard the awful din of steel against steel and came running to see what was amiss. They were so astounded at the sight of the bitter fight that no one took sides, they just stood there right by, hands at their sides, mouths gaping, eyes wide with fear and anxiety.

Eumenes came running with the others, asking with a worried look at the terrible fight:

"Cleitus! What is all this about? They shouldn't behave like that just now. The King needs us unified to come to his rescue!"

He received no verbal answer, just a resolute blow right at his chin, felling him straight backwards. He ended up sitting in one of the thorny bushes, gently massaging his tender chin, feeling like all the teeth in his lower jaw was about to fall out.

"Why did you do that to me? I did as you told me with the treasure, trying to save as much as I could..."

"Saving...SAVING, you tell me, you stingy moron! You are far to mean for your own good! The bandits found out your "saving" far too easy. Now our Alexander is in mortal peril because of it - and the two men most able to rescue him are trying to kill each other. Your clever savings have cost us dear indeed!"

Eumenes hid his face in his hands, feeling hot tears of shame and sorrow seeping through the stingy grip of his calculating fingers. He liked his position as King Alexander's Secretary and really thought he had done his very best with the treasure coffers. Now he had to learn the hard way the risks of being penny-wise and pound-foolish.

General Cleitus watched the depressing sights. The Secretary of State was filled with deep remorse, sitting in a sorrowful heap in a thorny rose bush, the King's Right Hand was locked into mortal combat with his Supreme General - and their whole army was standing by in utter shock and amazement. The old General exclaimed in complete desperation:

"Oh my poor King Alexander! With such friends you don't need any enemies!"

A small, nimble hand patted the old general's tense shoulder. He looked up on Bagoas beautiful face, filled with tears.

"General. You must stop this insanity! We simply cannot let this brutal giant kill the King's dearest friend. "

"No, we cannot, little one - but you know well this had to happen! There has been bad blood between those two for many a year. I'll have to wait until they get tired, then I'll try to take them apart. A curse on it! This fight couldn't have occurred more inconveniently!"

The bitter sword fight was going on and on and on... Craterus was by far the bigger and stronger - but Hephaestion countered with supreme tactics and agility, cleverly parrying and avoiding his opponent's violent blows and slashes. He received several strokes and cuts, none of them serious, and he gave back as good as he got, dealing his enormous adversary some sharp stabs and cuts. They were so engulfed in their mutual hatred and hard fighting that they didn't feel any pain whatsoever but their horrified spectators cringed and wailed at the brutal blows and slashes. Between the hard blows and slashes, the both combatants hurled the most horrible insults at each other, dragging up all their resentments and misbehaviors until they were far too tired to scream and yell any more. The Macedonian army had never before heard such bad language, not in their worst barrack brawls, not even when they all were deepest down in their cups.

The afternoon went by, the bright sun wandering over the sky, deeper and deeper down in the west. Its bright golden rays were replaced by a crimson tide, washing over the bitter enemies like all the blood being shed in previous battles against their enemies. They were both very tired now, stumbling around with faltering steps and leaps, their swords being too heavy to lift, their arms and shoulders worn out by dealing so many murderous blows, their hands loosening their grips on the lethal weapons. Darkness fell, the sun setting in a sea of blood red and glaring orange clouds in the west. The fighting men couldn't see properly, couldn't even set their feet right any more. Dropping their swords to the ground from sheer fatigue they felt their legs giving way under them, supporting each other with arms locked in an endless wrestling game. They fell to the ground, wriggling around in the emerald green grass, over tufts of thyme and lavender, ending up in some thorny rose bushes close to the Secretary. Hephaestion locked his right arm in a powerful grip around Craterus' sinewy neck - but the giant General defended himself by dragging Hephaestion's left arm forcefully behind his back.

"Yield to me -or I'll surely strangle you and get rid of your brutish scorn and hard words forever!"

"No, never! Yield to me - or I'll break your arm so badly you'll never be able to embrace your royal lover anymore!"

Craterus face was turning into an unhealthy bluish pallor. Hephaestion's left shoulder was creaking ominously. No one dared to interfere. All were in shock by seeing such mutual hatred, such bitter and obstinate fighting. The combatants never fought any Persians with such violence and resentment - not even at the bloody Hell on Earth at Gaugamela. Suddenly, the Secretary awoke from his sad remorse. He threw himself at Craterus' back, trying to tear him away from his prey.

"Let go off him! You'll tear him into pieces and that won't do! I don't like him - but I want him whole and sound to have someone to blame for all blunders of administration!"

General Cleitus rose from his depressive mode and got hold of Hephaestion, forcefully prying his strong right arm from Craterus throat, loosening his strangling grip.

"Enough is enough, my friend! Alexander needs you both, sound and alive! And - I know you don't like the General Craterus, but he surely is one of my very best friends here around. I won't let you strangle him before my very eyes!"

The fierce adversaries were completely exhausted by now and let themselves be parted, but most unwillingly. They were sitting amongst the fragrant flowers, glaring at each other in the last crimson rays of the setting sun. Craterus held one hand to his throat, breathing with great difficulty, struggling for every gulp of air. Hephaestion held on to his left shoulder, his arm hanging limp at his side, feeling the most horrible and sickening pain traveling all the way down into his hand and all the way up to his head. He rose with great difficulty, and when he was standing and swaying to and fro he pointed at his detractor.

"You there! You will never slander me any more - and now you'll give me a free hand in how we rescue Alexander!"

Craterus tried to speak but he was totally mute, his windpipe almost crushed by his opponent's merciless wrestling grip. He struggled for breath but was now totally unable to get any life giving air. Hephaestion saw with horror how the face of his worst detractor turned into an uncanny grayish blue and he fell backward into the rose bushes, without any vital signs. Cleitus rushed to Craterus and begun to shake him violently, screaming out loud:

"Oh, ye Gods! You have killed him. Doctor Philip! Come here immediately!"

The good doctor was near at hand, knowing his services soon would be needed. He helped Cleitus unlace Craterus' iron collar and corselet and together they turned the giant on his side. Fortunately, these simple measures were helpful and the patient was soon drawing after breath, although with great pain and effort. He was still alive to fight another day. Hephaestion mumbled a thankful prayer to the Gods of War and Healing. Doctor Philip recommended adamantly:

"You must carry him to his tent and put him to bed. I'll come soon and tend to his cuts and bruises and give him something that helps him to breathe easier. "

The giant general opened his eyes and tried to rise, still wanting to hurl himself upon Hephaestion. His opponent was still standing and prepared to defend himself, rising his good right arm to take another merciless wrestling grip. Doctor Philip had to go between them with stern reproach:

"You two ought to be glad to be alive! How can you behave so totally without common sense, trying to kill one another over your petty rivalries! King Alexander choose you to share the High Command not only for brutal fighting abilities but because of your intelligence and diplomacy. We haven't seen much of that today! Now you must calm down and rest in your tents. Unfortunately it'll take some days before you are able to set out to rescue King Alexander!"

After The Fight

Cleitus saw to it that Craterus' servants carried him to his tent to take care of him inside. He then came to Hephaestion. The younger man was barely able to stand, being overwhelmed by severe pain and violent emotions. The old general put his arm around his shoulders, giving him strong and tender support.

"How are you, my friend? You look very pale..."

"Yes. My arm is hurting something awful. I think I'm going to be sick..."

"No. Not here, in front of the whole army! I'll help you. Just lean upon me now. Cleitus had to drag him to the shelter of some friendly trees. There he immediately doubled up and emptied his stomach amongst the wild ivy and fragrant flowers. Cleitus held him tenderly, trying not to hurt his torn shoulder. He looked worriedly at the younger man. Hephaestion had turned into an uncanny green pallor, cold sweat running from his brow and all over and his auburn hair was damp and lusterless. When the sickness at last left him he looked up at the general, his eyes filled with deep pain:

"Thanks for helping me out. I'm ashamed of myself. Behaving like this when Alexander needs me the most!"

"Don't think of it. There is a limit to what a man can take of slander and malice! You'll feel better soon. The rescue party is ready for setting out first thing in the morning...Hephaestion?"

The younger man had suddenly lost consciousness and was hanging limply in his arms. Cleitus lifted him from the ground and carried him out of the grove, yelling out loud for the doctor's services once more. Doctor Philip came running towards them, asking worriedly:

" Cleitus! What's the matter with him? He was looking well enough after the fight. "

"Yes, but he told me that his arm was hurting badly and that he was going to be sick. I had to help him into the forest. He passed out after vomiting for a long time. "

"Let's take him to his tent and have a look at him. I hope it isn't something serious. "

Cleitus carried Hephaestion to his tent. The good doctor followed, together with Bagoas. They put their dear patient to rest on his fur clad army cot, undressing him, worriedly assessing all his injuries. There was not a part of his body that wasn't bruised or bloodied, but nothing looked serious, nothing but the horrible black swelling all around his left shoulder. The doctor put his hands around it, trying to detect eventual tears and fractures. The patient moaned and groaned a bit , trying to tear of the doctor's hands, but he didn't wake up. Cleitus asked with deep concern:

"How is he, doctor? That shoulder looks really bad..."

"Yes, but fortunately it's not as bad as it seems. It's not broken or dislocated, only badly torn and sprained. I'll put on some ointment and bandage it, and then he'll have to keep it out of use for several weeks. "

Bagoas came running with two big stoppered jars, bearing the King's Seal.

"Doctor Philip, these jars might be helpful to you. One contains a wonderful healing ointment the King uses on bad wounds and injuries, the other is an universal medicine that cures all pain and sickness!"

"That looks like something we need right now. Give them to me!"

Bagoas helped the doctor see to Hephaestion. They washed him clean with water scented with lavender and rosemary and tended to all his cuts and bruises. At last the doctor anointed his left shoulder with the King's miraculous ointment. They looked curiously at the thick, yellow green paste. Its strong smell of camphor, mint, rosemary and several strange and costly healing herbs filled up the whole tent and made their patient regain consciousness. Hephaestion looked at them, his wonderful blue eyes glazed over by pain and bewilderment. He apparently didn't recognize them.

"Alexander! That surely hurts a lot - but it'll help soon. It always does!"

Hephaestion passed out once more, his head falling at the side on the gold embroidered sky blue pillow. Cleitus put his hand to his brow, sadly pointing out:

"Oh no. Now he is delirious. What am I to do? He is the one with the best wits here around! I cannot manage without his common sense!"

Doctor Philip told him reassuringly :

"Don't you worry. He'll have his senses back when he wakes up. There will be much pain and stiffness in that shoulder though. I don't think he'll have much use of it for several weeks. Now let me finish here for tonight. "

The doctor put on a thick bandage and bound the arm closely to the side of his patient. Hephaestion woke up once more, trying to avoid the painful procedures. The good doctor tried in vain to calm him down.

"Keep quiet, my friend. I'll soon let you rest peacefully. Bagoas! Bring me the King's universal medicine. I think it's time for it now. "

Doctor Philip unstoppered the jar, curiously putting his nose to it. Cleitus and Bagoas joined him. The old general couldn't hold back a smile of amusement.

"It's brandy, my friends! Strong brandy scented with wormwood and yarrow! No wonder he uses that jar so frequently! That's truly a cure for all ailments!"

"Yes. You are right. I'll give it to him mixed with some poppy juice. "

The doctor filled a cup with the strong brandy, mixed with the opiate, and then gave it to their dear patient. Hephaestion swallowed, at first reluctantly, but when he felt the familiar strong taste of brandy he smiled and gulped it down most willingly.

"Thanks, my Alexander. You always know what is the best in times of dire need. Maybe you should give some to my opponent, too. Perhaps he needs it better than I do. "

He closed his eyes and fell into a deep drug induced sleep. The doctor covered him with warm furs.

"Oh. It's merciful he has forgotten all his troubles for the time being. You must watch closely over him and see to it that he doesn't get up and hurt himself any worse. Dont worry if he sleeps on for many hours. He'll need it to recuperate. "

The good doctor left them alone with the patient. They were closely watched over by eight strong guards posted around the tent. Pollux and Peritas were helping out, sitting closely at the patient's bedside. Hephaestion slept peacefully and Bagoas soon slipped out of the tent. coming back with some mulled wine, hot broth, bread and slices of ham. They ate and drank in silence and then sat down to their nightly vigil. Bagoas spoke softly while he gently stroke over Hephaestion's brow and long auburn hair.

"I didn't know the General could show such fierce temper. He is always so calm and sensible in the company of the King. I'm quite impressed by his fighting abilities. All that brutal sword play going on for hours, and then almost strangling his opponent!

"Yes. There is much more to him than meets the eye. Alexander wouldn't have chosen him to protect his right side in battle if he hadn't possessed excellent fighting skills. I'm quite amazed that he managed to hold his own against Craterus for such a long time, though. I'm glad he didn't manage to strangle him. He would have been sorry for it afterward. A strange thing, what sheer hatred can do to the most calm and sensible of men!

"What a horrible day. That fight was the very worst I've ever seen! You Macedonians never cease to amaze me. Why can't you poison each other calmly and peacefully as they did at the Persian Court?"

"We do have capable poisoners in Macedon too - but Hephaestion has taken careful measures against it. All in the High Command always eat at the common table, from the same dishes, with wine from one great bowl in the middle. To poison one of us one has to poison us all - and since we all share the same food that will never happen! "

Bagoas shuddered, thinking that all men are the same, devious and dangerous in all places and countries. A cold draught blew through the tent flap, bringing a chorus of curious and ill willed whispers inside.

Miracle Cure

Some hours passed. Hephaestion was sleeping peacefully under his warm furs. Cleitus heard some ominous sounds outside. He had a bad feeling and rose, lifting the tent flap to peer out in the darkness. The air was brimming with anxiety and dissension. Not a single soul were in their own tents or asleep. Many had gathered around General Craterus' big tent, many more around General Hephaestion's tent. The whole army was divided into two great fractions, ready to fight each other. Things couldn't have been worse. Then Cleitus saw that some of the soldiers around the other tent were crying. Craterus' guards didn't stand in their usual, formal postures at the sides of the tent opening. They were looking inside, lifting the tent flap for everyone to see. He clearly heard someone audibly whisper:

"Doctor Philip is here - but not even his skills are enough...A curse upon this dark day! That man! Always bringing calamity and disaster. Now our dear friend is slowly dying because of his uncanny wrestling skills. "

Cassander! Slanderous as usual - but now there was a serious background to his evil words. Eumenes answered him with low and somber voice:

"I always knew he would do us some serious harm - but not in this terrible manner!"

Things were worse than expected. Macedon was in grave danger indeed. The old general felt the need of taking some immediate action. He told Bagoas:

"Pick up those jars with the King's miracle cures and follow me. Time is of the essence!"

"Yes, General - but we cannot leave the General Hephaestion like this. "

"Stefanos and Alexios can sit up with him - and no one passes those watchdogs! Now come with me! This is something we must do at once!"

When the faithful guards had taken their places at the patient's bedside they went outside. It was not a pleasant walk on the night side. The air was so thick with deep resentment one could have sliced it into blocks of bitter hatred. The old general pull his fur cloak closely around his shoulders while his small companion tried to hide himself under it. Bagoas had seldom felt such horror in his troubled life. It was the same ominous ambiance as before the Murder of King Darius. The whole camp was filled up with it and he feared for his very life. The crowd around Craterus' tent reluctantly parted for them. His faithful guards barely let them pass inside. They came upon a most sorrowful sight in the glow from the fire pan and some torches. The giant general was reclining on his army cot, halfway sitting up supported by soft cushions, deeply unconscious. His breath came with great difficulty and he was unnaturally pale, his face showing an unnatural blue gray pallor. His lips were dark blue, his nails almost black. Doctor Philip sat at his bedside, anxiously watching over him and trying to revive him with a jar of smelling salts. The whole tent was filled with its vapors, smelling strongly from camphor and mint. Cleitus asked with deep concern:

"How is he? "

"Can't you see that for yourself! I fear he is dying! I've tried everything - but the swelling in his throat won't go away. He has been like this for some hours now..."

"Let me try this out! It's the King's special remedies. The General Hephaestion told us to bring it if his opponent was in dire need. "

"Yes. I know of those. Well, you may try. It cannot make things worse!"

A murmur of amazement went through the closest audience and spread itself to the crowd outside. King Alexander's remedies and their miraculous effects were well known. Cleitus unstoppered the bottle and forcefully tore away the compress with healing herbs Doctor Philip had applied to his patient's throat. He then filled his calloused palm with the King's healing ointment and immersed it upon the hideous black swelling on Craterus' throat. At first nothing happened, and then a strange violet light came from the miracle ointment, together with the strong smell of camphor and healing herbs. Suddenly the giant General gave up an anguished scream, lashing out violently with a hoarse whisper:

"Alexander! Let go of me! I'm not so badly off that I'm in need of your precious ointments!"

Cleitus almost burst out into tears:

"I'm not Alexander, you big brute! You feel the smell of his healing ointment - and I'm so glad it is so effective. Here, have some of the cordial too. You look like you need it!"

He carefully closed the bottle with the healing ointment and unstoppered the other one, filling a bowl with the dark red liquor. He then cradled the other man's head in his left arm and helped him to take some gulps of the miracle medicine. Craterus swallowed with amazing ease and fell asleep shortly afterward. His breathing came much easier and his color was slowly returning to normal. He was still very pale but the uncanny blue shadows on his face, lips and nails was gone. The good doctor and all around thanked the Gods for the miracle the King's remedies had brought. It was as if Alexander still had been with them - but this violent fight between his two most trusted generals and its sad aftermath would never have occurred in the King's presence...

Cleitus and Bagoas returned to Hephaestion. He was soundly asleep, closely guarded by Stefanos and Alexios and both dogs. They sat down at his bedside, preparing for a long vigil.

Making Up

The two combatants slept soundly for almost three days, completely exhausted by their violent fighting and the strong remedies that had been administered to them. Doctor Philip and their faithful friends and guards were worried, thinking they might never wake up again. General Cleitus and Bagoas sat closely together, watching over Hephaestion. They had never liked one another before, but this unusual situation had brought them together in mutual care for someone dear to both of them. At the morning of the third day Hephaestion started to toss and turn on his army cot. He was worriedly asking for Alexander and they were barely able to hold him down. Soon he opened his wonderful blue eyes. At first they were filled with confusion and anxiety but they soon cleared up and he was able to recognize his friends. He asked them, his voice barely audible:

"What happened? How long have I been laid up like this?"

Doctor Philip explained the situation. He couldn't resist another lesson in morals and good manners.

"You and Craterus had a bad fight. You almost managed to strangle him. It's only because of the King's remedies he is alive today. He won't be able to roar any commands at our army for a very long time! And - you surely won't be able to do any riding or climbing for several weeks! You ought to be glad he didn't tear off your left arm. You have been behaving like naughty children - but you are men with dangerous weapons and fighting skills. Now you won't be able to ride out to rescue the King for a very long time indeed!"

"Calm yourself down, doctor Philip. Scolding me won't help us out at all! What's done is done. Now I'm both thirsty and hungry. Please give me some food and wine, and then I'll see to all our troubles. We have an important mission before us! "

Soon Hephaestion was sitting up, eating with a hearty appetite. Afterwards he tore off the bandages and looked curiously at his left shoulder. The horrible black bruises and the swelling were completely gone and he was able to raise his arm to its full range of moment, completely without pain!

"How strange. You told me my shoulder was badly damaged - and I clearly remember that awful pain and throbbing in my whole left arm before I got sick and passed out in the forest. Now it seems to be quite all right again! "

The good doctor, Cleitus and Bagoas were most amazed at how fast he had regained the use of his left arm and shoulder. The King's remedies had worked a true miracle upon his dearest friend!

Hephaestion rose from his bed, dressed and put on his corselet, arming himself to the teeth, donning his midnight blue cloak, rimmed with white fur. He then strode out in camp with Cleitus at his side and closely surrounded by his his eight faithful guards. Doctor Philip and Bagoas followed behind, carefully watching over their patient's miraculous recovery. The General Craterus came out from his tent, roaring at his men:

"Get all the horses and gear ready! We'll set out in no time to rescue the King! I'll lead you to that damn Rock of Chorienes! We'll get to the top of it, even if I'll have to throw us all up there!"

Doctor Philip looked at the giant general as if he had seen a ghost, and he said quietly to himself/"This simply cannot happen! Three days ago he couldn't even breathe, let alone talk. Now he is roaring along quite as usual. There must be something really miraculous with the King's remedies!"/

Hephaestion marched towards him, talking back at him:

"No. I'm the best climber and path finder here around. It's my business to lead the rescue party! My mistakes caused this calamity and it is I who must set things right again!"

Cleitus put his hand to his brow in desperation:

"Oh no. Now they are at it again!"

Both adversaries met in the middle of camp, fiercely glaring at each other. All around took several steps back, looking at them in sheer terror. The General Craterus was impressive with his black mane and fiery brown eyes, towering over all in his black armor and cloak, - but the General Hephaestion was looking simply wonderful in his polished, silvery armor and midnight blue cloak, his glossy auburn hair like a fine mantle over his shoulders and his clear blue eyes taking in them all with bright intelligence and deep concern. He was the calm and thoughtful Moon to King Alexander's fiery Sun, a true Leader of Men. To the great amazement of all, the generals embraced each other closely. Craterus patted the younger man's back and shoulders and generously admitted:

"Yes. For once you are right. You'll take the lead and I'll follow. Now let's get started! Time is of the essence! "

Hephaestion answered: "Yes, the King is in grave danger and we must do our best to rescue him as quickly as possible! I'm so glad I didn't manage to strangle you in my rage! Alexander needs the both of us whole and healthy - he has managed to show us that with the miracles his remedies has worked upon us! "

TBC


	6. To the Rescue!

TEMPLATE:

Title: FIC: I, Too Am Alexander ( 6 / 7 )

Author: NorthernLight

Category: Love/Friendship/Adventure story. Alternate History.

Pairing: Alexander&Hephaestion Date: October 2005.

Feedback: Yes, all kinds, on or off list. Archive: Yes, if you like, but please tell me.

Disclaimer: I don't own them. For entertainment only...hopefully. Not for gain - my work is for my deep interest in Alexander and Hephaestion, their time and adventures.

Rating: R

Beta: Denise. Many thanks for good discussions and suggestions.

Summary : Alexander and his army come to the Paradise of Nysa on their march to the East. They decide to have a feast under the starlit sky. With everyone senseless from heavy drinking and carnal pleasure Alexander is kidnapped by a band of cunning mountain bandits. Hephaestion soon finds out that his Beautiful Golden One has been taken into captivity at the inaccessible Rock of Chorienes. Meeting strong opposition from all his detractors he has to unite the whole army for a bold rescue party. He will have to call upon all his strength and diplomacy for this impossible mission.

Warnings: This is AR, very close to but not "real" history. Alexander besieged the Rock of Chorienes but was of course never imprisoned there. Angst, violent fighting, high heights and dangerous climbing, intrigue, quarrels and adversities.

Historical note: The Rock of Chorienes is a real place, being besieged by Alexander and his army on his way to India.

Dedication: To Denise. Thanks to your excellent and positive fic challenge about Alexander being kidnapped and Hephaestion taking over the army for a daring and dangerous rescue operation.

Rock of Chorienes, 328 BC

Greed Denied

"King's ransom! Are these petty baubles and few pieces of gold supposed to be a KING'S ransom? Do you mean we cast such clever plans and risked our lives for this? I've never been so disappointed in my whole life!"

Ohrlasz stamped the stone floor and tore his fiery red hair in anger and disappointment. He was kicking the treasure casket around and throwing the gold coins and jewels all around the room. Chorienes looked at him with terror and amazement.

"Calm yourself, my dear Scythian guest. It is a bad thing we didn't get all the gold and jewels we expected for our prisoner - but now we can kill him for sure! Our world would be a safer place without Sikandar!"

"Yes, you are right, old man. We must do it together. All my brave men could not injure a hair on his head! Sikandar is not like other men. They say it's something uncanny with his eyes..."

"Let's go! It's better to have it done now than later..."

The two culprits armed themselves with swords and daggers, and then they went with quick and determined steps to the dreary dungeon of their hapless prisoner.

Murder Prevented

Alexander was sitting on his hard stone bench, sadly looking at the shackles around his wrists and ankle joints. They had torn deep into his flesh by now, leaving angry red welts. He was cold and hungry and feeling severe pain all over his body and inside his starving stomach. Time had passed along, day after grief stricken day. He'd lost account of how many sunrises and sunsets he had spent locked up in misery in this dreary dungeon. Where were all his companions and his invincible army? Where was Hephaestion? What took them so long to come to rescue him? Could it really be true that they all were dead and gone, poisoned by his vile captors? He cradled his aching head in his cold and trembling hands, once more giving in to despair.

The afternoon went by and the sun was setting like a blood red ominous orb in a sea of crimson clouds. The door opened. He dragged himself up from the stone bench, facing his visitors on his feet, legs trembling from weakness and too much time spent in unfamiliar stillness. Ohrlasz again - and with him an old man with long gray hair and beard. His yellow eyes glared at him, sly and calculating, together with the Scythian's cold and cruel green orbs. Alexander felt nothing good could come out of this visit.

"Sikandar! You seem to be of precious little value to your followers. The King's ransom we demanded for you has not been paid. You have outlived your usefulness to us. Today is your last day of life!"

Together they pulled their sharp, scimitars from their sashes. Red rays from the setting sun made them glitter as if they already had been plunged into his heart's blood. Then, both murderous chiefs came towards Alexander, determined to kill him right there and then. He gazed down at them, his beautiful gray eyes shining with cold contempt, filling up with an inner strength and glorious light, more radiant than precious pearls or sparkling diamonds. Starved , dirty and unkempt, his golden hair a mess of wild, neglected curls, dressed in rags and trembling from weakness and despair, he still looked like a true King in every inch.

Suddenly the crimson rays from the setting sun turned into a searing golden light, forming a protecting shield around the hapless prisoner. Some rays stroke out at the both chiefs, burning their hands so badly that they dropped their murderous scimitars to the ground. Ohrlaszh and Chorienes turned and fled the dungeon in sheer terror, slamming the door shut after them. Next day there was no food or water at all to have for the imprisoned King.

Nysa 327 BC

Hard Riding

At long last they were on their way to rescue King Alexander. The chosen crack troops consisted of experienced mountaineers. They were all armed to their teeth and riding at their hardest pace on the straightest path to the Rock of Chorienes. Hephaestion took a deep breath of the fresh air on the open steppe and fondly patted his brave and resourceful war stallion Castor on his muscular neck. Warm winds were blowing around them, and the sun was shining golden and beautiful above their heads. It could have been a wonderful excursion in this fine weather, if not for their serious and dangerous mission looming in front of them. The Generals Cleitus and Craterus were riding at his sides, Bagoas and Cassander right after, the latter constantly scolding the Little One. Hephaestion turned his head to them:

"Cassander. Shut up your foul mouth! We have an important mission to accomplish and we must not quarrel amongst ourselves. We are all here to rescue and help our King - and we don't know which one of us will matter the most at the end of the day!"

One more, most important member was following the brave rescue party like a giant, black shadow. Bucephalus, in his Kingly array, was running at the side of Castor and Hephaestion, his powerful hooves thundering over the steppe. He allowed no one to ride him! The legendary war stallion had been missing his Dear Master sorely, becoming more and more unmanageable for every day that went on without the King. The grooms said they could swear that the King's horse was constantly upholding a grumbling dialog of sorrowful malcontence with the General Hephaestion's more docile stallion.

They rode hard all day over the green and yellow grass. Tufts of beautiful flowers, red, orange, golden, blue and violet were crushed under the horses' hooves, immersing them into all kinds of fragrances but the brave rescue party had no time to rejoice in Nature's beauty.

Arrival To The Rock

The Rock of Chorienes was far away and, despite their hard riding, it took them well over a week to reach it. When they saw the cragged inhospitable mountain walls with its impregnable hill fort at the top looming ahead they felt a surge of despair. This Rock was quite unreachable!

"Oh, no! Whatever shall we do? We'll all get killed one way or another if we try to climb up there!"" said Eumenes, cowardly as usual..

Cassander agreed:

"Yes. We cannot attack it from the road up to the main gate. Those people could hold on up there forever! And - the mountain slopes all around the hill fort look completely impossible to climb!"

Craterus gave them a stern reproach:

"Yes, my friends. You are telling the truth - but we must find a way to break inside! King Alexander must be rescued at any cost!"

Hephaestion told them all with desperate determination:

"My gentlemen, you are totally right. This Rock seems even more difficult to take then I could imagine. We cannot proceed now when the sun has set - but we'll begin our rescue mission first thing in the morning! I'll think of something...Let us now have our supper and then a good night's sleep. It'll do wonders for us. "

Hephaestion went some distance away from the company, feeling he needed some solitude to gather his troubled thoughts. His faithful guards and watchdogs followed him closely - but soon someone else, quite unexpected, came up to him and called upon his attention. He felt a discreet pull at the right side of his cloak. A friend, since the guards had let him come that close. Looking over his shoulder he saw Aristander. The venerable old seer had often helped Alexander with signs and sacrifices - and warned him about the dangers he exposed himself to only too willingly. He asked with great curiosity :

"Oh, my Aristander, do you have some good signs or omens to tell me? I have never needed them more!"

"My General Hephaestion. I want to give you some good advice. When in dire need or facing difficult situations, King Alexander can sometimes dream about good advice from the Gods - or deeply hidden sources of knowledge inside his own clever mind. You are more like him than you think! I recommend you to try it out this very night. You will not be disappointed!"

"Yes, my seer. I'm thankful for this good advice. I'll do as you say. Now I wish you a good night. "

Path Of Stars

Long after nightfall they made their makeshift camp, sleeping under the starlit sky, hiding from the Rock behind a verdant copse. Hephaestion went about his usual rounds, seeing to everyone before he sat down to his supper. After strenghtening himself with broth, bread and well watered down wine he wrapped himself in warm furs, trying to get some sleep. Pollux and Peritas curled up on his sides, giving him some extra warmth. The night was unusually cold and he looked up towards the silvery stars and the waxing moon with some important questions.

/Where was Alexander now? How did his cruel captors treat him? Was he even still alive/

Hephaestion put his right hand over his heart. Finding it was still beating he felt reassured that his Beautiful Golden One was still alive. Sleep came to him, wrapping him into a velvet, starlit blanket.

/ Something dragged him up in a sitting position. All camp was still around him, all except the guards were soundly asleep. He knew he was dreaming - but it was not the usual clouded visions of sleep. The velvet black sky formed a friendly cupola over him, adorned with stars sparkling like diamonds and silvery pearls. Suddenly he saw a ray of gleaming silver emanate from the waxing moon. It formed a path towards the Rock of Chorienes, all the way up to the hill fort, on its most unreachable side. Friendly stars were flocking upon the silvery path, forming a pleading choir: " Follow us! Follow us! We will show you how to succor your Dear One!" Throwing the warming furs at the side he rose and let the wonderful stars carry him in their silvery arms. They looked cold like ice from afar - but when they closed in upon him he found them wonderfully warm and reassuring. He found himself soaring high up on the mountainside. Tiny voices told him, ringing like a heavenly choir in to his ears:

"Memorize this path! You'll have to climb it first time in the morning!"

He thoroughly heeded their well meaning advice, committing all of the path to memory. It was steep and dangerous - but quite possible to climb. A barred window aperture loomed closely before him, lit up by he silvery rays. He looked inside and felt his heart take an extra leap of sheer rejoicing.

" Oh, Alexander!"

His Beautiful Golden One was sleeping inside a dreary dungeon on a cold stone bench, wrapped in a threadbare blanket, his body so thin one couldn't discern much of it. He was in a desperate condition, barely breathing and he seemed to be starving. Hephaestion desperately tore at the cruel iron bars and suddenly he found himself at his Loved One's side. It was as if his body had been dissolved into pure starlight and then materialized again in the dreary dungeon. He shivered from the cold inside and looked with horror upon the damp and mildew on the cragged stone walls. Then he embraced his Beautiful Golden One and cradled him in his powerful arms. Alexander was cold like ice and he had never felt so thin and wane, not even during his horrible sickness in the desert beyond the Jaxartes. He was barely breathing and Hephaestion shook him violently, desperately afraid that he wouldn't regain consciousness.

"Alexander! Wake up! You must wake up for me! I'm here to save you..."

His friend made a wry face, contorted with pain and fright. Eyelids fluttered and he gasped strenuously after breath. Then he looked up, his beautiful gray eyes at first filled with horror but soon warming up with the most overwhelming love and friendship. He managed to whisper, his voice barely audible:

"Hephaestion. You came for me. At long last! I knew you would never desert me...never let me languish in this horrid captivity! "

"No, Alexander. Never! I'll be with you always..."

"So hungry...so thirsty...I've had no wine to drink all this time...and now not even that stale bread and musty water they used to give me!"

Hephaestion fumbled at his belt and felt the wine jar at his side. He quickly unstrapped it and put it to Alexander's lips. His friend took some desperate deep draughts from it, almost like a suckling babe. "Aaaah...That felt real good. You always know what I need the most. "

He closed his eyes and put himself to rest in the arms of his True Steadfast Friend. Some warmth had returned to his cold and starved body, his breathing came easier and his complexion was somewhat healthier. Hephaestion wished he could have stayed and watched over him but now he felt the silvery path pulling him back to the window aperture. He gave his friend a loving caress over his chin and reassuringly told him:

"Sleep well and tight, my Loved One. I'll come for you first thing in the morning!"

The star choir chimed in his ears:

"Remember! Remember the silvery path!"

He was floating back through the aperture, back down the mountain side, seeing the silvery Path of Stars all the way until he was back at camp. He stood for a long time watching and memorizing, until he returned to his warming furs and true sleep wrapped itself around his tired body. /

Hephaestion awoke long before first light. He remembered every moment of his strange and important Dream Come True and immediately felt for the wine jar at his belt. It was empty now !

Climbing Of The Cliff

Long before dawn the brave rescue party shared a nourishing breakfast. They then armed themselves and brought their climbing gear. It was a clear and chilly morning and they were thankful for it since no one could discern their shudders of frightfulness from nature's own chills. Hephaestion came up to Aristander and put a hand on the old seers right shoulder.

"Thank you for your sound advice. I really think it will work!" "Yes. The Gods never lie to me!"

He addressed the troops:

"My gentlemen. You know I have some experience of tough mountain climbing. I have thought about our important mission all night long and now I know of a secure path up to the hill fort. You just follow me and you'll see that all things will turn for the best. "

He looked so confident they all believed him. Only his three detractors gave each other sly glances and knowing nudges. The rescue party were dressed in cloaks in modest insignificant colors and armed to the teeth as they started the ascent to the hill fort. Hephaestion had brought all the necessary equipment, especially Alexander's favorite wine jar and of course the King's Miracle Cures. He could feel three small jars for emergency purpose jingling towards each other in a sac strictly bound up on his sword belt. They were closely wrapped in protecting cloth and so prudently packed they would not fall off, not even during an earthquake.

The mountain slope loomed before them, an enormous, high wall of stone and surly bushes. Even the flowers and herbs looked hostile, covered with thorns and in sharp, warning red, yellow and orange colors. They closed in on it with wholesome awe, creeping and covering through the bushes and steppe grass. Hephaestion led them through tufts of razor sharp grass so high and hostile not even hungry animals had wanted it. There was a tunnel in a thicket of thorny bushes and small trees, leading to the foot of the mountain. In amazement they looked at something similar to a flight of stairs, consisting of sharp stones, much to far from each other.

"My gentlemen. This is our path to the King's rescue! I'll go up there now. I want all of you who are brave and dedicated to follow - but if someone feels he's not up to it, I'll show respect to your decision. King Alexander is not helped by those who are faint of heart and who even might fall to their own doom."

Cleitus, Craterus and Ptolemy came forward, together with Leonnatos and Lysimachos.

"We'll go up there with you, Hephaestion. Let's just get our climbing gear out. "

Bagoas also came up to him:

" Please, let me follow up there. I was born in a hill fort much like this one - and I was an able climber before..."

Tears broke through in his hazel eyes and his voice faltered. Hephaestion put his hand comforting on the Little One's shoulder.

"Yes, Bagoas. Of course you must come with me. I think the King will need both of us when we find him...You may climb right after me - but please look well after yourself and your footing!"

They all started the arduous climbing. The King's both dear friends came first, together with a skilled blacksmith, his tools in a satchel closely bound to his side. The generals and the faithful guards followed closely. After them climbed all the experienced mountaineers. From afar they looked like some kind of giant snake or dragon's tail winding up the mountain slope.

Two persons remained, cowardly hiding in the bushes under their cloaks. Cassander and Eumenes were too afraid of the steep precipice, putting their own security before the King's welfare.

Dear One Detected

The climbing was hard and trying. No one dared to look down the steep cliffs. One glimpse was enough to scare even the braves mountaineer. They were all eagerly occupied holding on for dear life, their hands and feet grappling for sure footing and the next hazardous step up to their important goal. Hephaestion was the first one to reach the barred window aperture. He looked through the cruel iron bars. Alexander lay huddled in an unnatural stillness, wrapped into a threadbare blanket . His beautiful golden hair was a mess of lusterless curls, matted and dirty, he was pale as a marble statue and one couldn't see him breathing at all.

"Oh, Alexander, my Dear One. Whoever has done this to you?"

Hephaestion beckoned one of the blacksmiths the chief engineer Aristobolus had assigned to the rescue operation. He had tears in his eyes and his voice didn't carry:

"Master blacksmith. Have those bars done away with as quickly as possible! Time is truly of the essence!"

"Yes, my General. I'll do my very best. "

The man got to work, using his sturdy pincers and long hacksaw with energetic resolution. Hephaestion and Craterus helped him out, holding him to give him a steady platform to make his important work successful. All the party prayed and hoped that no one inside the hill fort could hear all that noise. Hephaestion looked watchfully up towards the other window apertures:

"Work quickly, my friend! Quickly! The enemy could easily shoot us down from those apertures!"

"Don't worry, my General. Those nasty bars will be gone very soon. Yes! There we are now!"

One iron bar gave way, and then another. Soon all of them came dancing down the mountain slope, well avoiding the heads of the brave rescuers. Hephaestion gave a great sigh of relief and gave out an eagerly awaited order: "Follow me, my gentlemen! Let's get inside quickly!"

He was the first one through the stony aperture. Bagoas eagerly followed, hidden in a fold of his camouflage cloak. Cleitus and Craterus came s right after, followed by all the others. The dreary dungeon quickly filled up with a whole army of brave men, armed to the teeth. Hephaestion rushed to Alexander's side and embraced him tenderly. The King was deeply unconscious and barely breathing. His face was very pale and wan, almost transparent and he had deep hollows under the eyes. His whole body seemed emaciated from complete starvation. He was chained to the hard stone bench, and the cruel shackles restraining his hands and feet had made festering wounds and welts all around his wrists and ankles. Hephaestion had never before seen him in such a desperate condition. He started to cry and desperately shook him, holding him closer to his side.

"Oh, my Dear One. Now I'm here. All is well. I'll cut away those cruel chains and take you with me from this vile place! Alexander! Wake up now! Speak to me!"

At long last he was rewarded. Alexander's eyelids fluttered and he looked at to his True Steadfast Friend, his wonderful gray eyes filled up with fond recognition. He spoke, but his voice was so weak the words were barely audible:

"Hephaestion! I knew you were coming for me! Whatever took you so long?"

He tried to put his hands around Hephaestion's neck but the shackles restrained him, cutting into his wrists, making him wince with pain. His friend cried out in outrage:

"Master blacksmith! Cut away these shackles immediately! The King must be free!"

The blacksmith rushed to them and started his work at once, while Hephaestion was holding Alexander in his arms, telling him words of comfort:

"Patience, my friend, patience. We'll have you free in no time, my dear one. Whatever happened to you up here? You seem to have been starved almost into oblivion!"

"Yes, I've had very little food - and no wine at all! Did you remember to bring any?"

"What do you think? I always know what you'll need the most! Here it is..."

He took the King's favorite wine jar from his belt and quickly unstoppered it, holding it to Alexander's lips. The King drank avidly, until his friend prudently took the jar away.

"No. You cannot have more now. We'll have to wait a while, or else you'll only become sick! I think I'll give you a sip from the Miracle cure now. You look like you need it badly."

He unleashed the jar from his belt but didn't have the time to administer the medicine. The door flew open with a great bang. A cold wind and foul stench of unwashed bodies blew against the brave rescue party.

Enemy Assault

It was Ohrlasz and Chorienes, together with all their cruel mountain bandits. The red haired Scythian stamped the floor in amazed frustration. He screamed out loud at Hephaestion:

" You! You again! Only you, with your Wonders of Virtue, could climb an unclimbable mountain to save Sikandar! But, now when I'm having you here straight before me, I'll see to it that this is the last time ever you get in my way!"

Ohrlasz brandished his scimitar and flew at Hephaestion, who had to quickly release his hapless friend and jump to his feet. His sword was in his hand long before he was facing his and Alexander's most deathly enemy.

"No, Evil One! I'll see to it that you'll never again harm my King and my very dearest friend! To me, my friends! Let's have at them all. Leave no one alive!"

He met the Scythian right in front of Alexander, his sword clashing with the enemy's scimitar so violently the air was sparkling with flashes. The two men held long and hard grudges against each other and they fought with red hot hatred and determination. Parries and slashes made the air sizzle around them. They were both strong men of grand stature and excellent sword fighters, managing to deflect all violent slashes and keep out of harm's way.

All around them the Macedonians fought the mountain bandits with cruel effectiveness. Cleitus clashed with Chorienes, managing to kill the old mountain chief with three violent sword thrusts. Craterus fought several foes simultaneously, killing them all with his long and sharp sword. The mountain bandits soon fled the giant General, howling from sheer terror. They were hunted down and killed by other ferocious Macedonians. The battle went on and on, the combatants milling out from the dungeon, chasing each other in the stone corridors all over the castle. It was by far the most cruel fight in the whole Persian war. The Macedonians were in an uproar over the outrage done to their beloved King Alexander and they wanted revenge in a way never to be forgotten in these unfriendly Sogdian mountains. After hours of hard fighting, all the mountain bandits lay dead in sorrowful heaps and puddles of dark red blood all around the Rock of Chorienes. Their hapless slaves and subjugated servants came forward from the shadows, cheering and thanking the Macedonians for their surprising liberation.

Hephaestion and Ohrlasz relentlessly fought on, long after all the other fights were over. The Macedonians saw them go at each other, no one wanting to yield. This truly was a fight to the death and no one dared to go between. They were equally skilled with their swords and had not managed to wound each other seriously. They had just a few scratches they didn't even notice in their red hot anger and hatred. The fight went on and on, the combatants relentlessly slashing and parrying, sword and scimitar sparkling with fury. The Scythian was somewhat older and felt a slight tremble and weakening of his sword arm. He knew his opponent would not show any mercy to him. In sheer need and desperation he searched through his clever brain for a resource. A cruel light started to shimmer in his green eyes when he found it!

Hephaestion felt he was getting the upper hand on his dangerous enemy and he prepared himself for a final deadly assault. He was met by forceful resistance and found himself being pushed back, step for step - until his left foot was soaring in thin air with nothing to support him. It felt like an eternity, and then he stamped on a mossy, slippery stone step. He dared a quick glance backwards. To his horror a narrow spiral stair case dwindled down into an abyss of darkness, every flight of stairs composed by slippery stones. The Scythian barred his way up with his scimitar and he had to chance one step more down. Ohrlasz knew every one of those treacherous steps and shrewdly took advantage of it, forcing his opponent downstairs, one step at the time. With a cunning smile he saw Hephaestion slip and fall on a mossy stone. Hephaestion fell down several stone stairs, soaring out in thin, cold air, until his back struck a sharp edged stone landing. The hard fall completely knocked the wind out of him. It all happened so fast the Macedonians didn't have any time to come to his rescue. Gasping for air he saw Ohrlasz rising his sharp scimitar to deal the killing stroke. Green eyes glittered with relentless cruelty and the hated voice hissed at him:

"Now, you Wonder Of Virtue, now I have you right where I want you! You'll never more help your precious King to harass our poor people!"

Hephaestion was now at the mercy of his worst enemy. None of his friends was close enough to save him. Alexander! Where was his Beautiful Golden One now when he needed him the most ?

Tender Care

Alexander saw with horror how his enemies came pouring through the door. Hephaestion had to rush from him to defend himself from Ohrlasz's vicious assault. He was not without help or attention. The master blacksmith worked furiously to free him from the cruel shackles, soon managing to free his right hand. A small figure lifted him with nimble hands, placing his head in his lap. He felt the wonderful fragrances of Persian perfumes and looked up at Bagoas. The brave boy was compelled to crying when he saw the cruelties committed to the King of his Heart. Crystal tears ran down his perfect ivory cheeks. Alexander reached out with his right, newly liberated hand and tenderly stroke his cheek and soft dark red hair, telling him with a faint whisper:

"My little Dear One. Do not cry anymore. You came to my side in this time of dire need. It is by far the bravest thing you have done for me. You are not strong, not skilled in the art of arms...still you came with my battle hardened friends..."

"Yes, my Lord. How could I stay behind, knowing of Your peril. I well know You need the both of us..."

Alexander winced in pain when the master blacksmith had to break loose the shackles around his left hand. Bagoas took the jar with the miracle cordial and put it to the King's lips.

"Here, my Lord. Drink this. It'll make You feel stronger...It'll ease the pain..."

Alexander felt the familiar taste of strong wine laced with salutary herbs and he drank deeply. Bagoas quickly withdrew the jar from him.

"No, my Lord. Not so much at a time. One sip is quite enough. It sufficed for the others when they were hurt..."

"You well know one sip of wine is never enough for me, my little Dear One. Now give me the whole bottle!"

Bagoas couldn't resist his strong grip on the bottle and saw the King drink down all of the cordial in a few mighty gulps. It seemed to work true miracles for him. His pale cheeks turned into a healthy rosy color and his beautiful gray eyes sparkled from new life and vitality. He patiently endured the blacksmith's hard poundings to free his left hand and then both his feet from the shackles. Bagoas held him tenderly in his lap, giving him consoling strokes on his hair and cheeks.

"Rest easy , my King. Soon all our enemies will be hunted down and killed. We are many here to rescue you. "

"Yes. I saw you pouring through that stone aperture. It was a most welcome sight!"

A Friend's Plight

The King suddenly rose from the stone couch. He put his right hand over his heart and called out:

"Hephaestion! Where are you? I'm coming..."

Alexander was very weak from his cruel exposure. His legs were trembling so badly he could barely stand. Bagoas gave him all the support he could manage, trying to restrain him:

"My Lord, you should not be up so early. You are not well. You might fall and hurt yourself. "

"Yes, but I have to! Hephaestion needs me desperately. I can feel it in the very core of my heart!"

Alexander saw horrible pictures before his Inner Eye. Hephaestion was lying on a mossy stone landing, knocked out of breath and completely defenseless. Ohrlasz was standing over him, brandishing his sharp scimitar, aiming straight at the heart of his True Steadfast Friend. The King gasped for air and took a sword from Stefanos who was standing guard over him. His hands were shaking and he was so weak he could hardly hold on to the weapon. The faithful guard prudently told him:

"My King. What is it you want done? You have only to tell..."

"Follow me and hold me steady if I need it. Time is of the essence!"

Alexander leaped out of the hated dungeon. He was unable to run but staggered with fast and unsteady steps, reeling from side to side and steadying himself with support from the stone walls. Bagoas and the faithful guards followed him closely, ready to catch him if he should stumble and fall. Horrible sights passed before their eyes. All the mountain bandits lay dead in their blood, horribly slain and mutilated. The Macedonians had taken a cruel revenge on King Alexander's infamous abductors. They ran through several galleries, big rooms and corridors, lit up from a bright afternoon sun shining in from stony apertures. The Macedonians were milling around everywhere, all asking the same question:

"Where is the General Hephaestion? "

Alexander didn't ask anyone. He knew with some uncanny inner clarity - and he was staggering straight towards the right spot. They saw the spiral stair case, heard Ohrlasz cruel laughter and merciless rantings. The red haired Scythian prepared to run Hephaestion through with his scimitar. He raised the sharp weapon and took careful aim, thrusting with all his might. A strong blow to his back interrupted his cruel intentions, and then a sword sliced straight through him, its point dripping blood and piercing his chest. He looked at it with amazement, then turned his head. His very last sight was of a figure clad but in a white, dirty, threadbare linen shirt, with blazing gray eyes and beautiful shining golden hair, wielding a sharp Macedonian sword with trembling hands and deadly accuracy. Ohrlaszh breathed his last with one word:

"Sikandar...".

King's Rescue

Hephaestion saw Ohrlasz prepare for the death blow. Tears of shame and sorrow clouded his eyes. He was so close to his Beautiful Golden One, the rescue mission had been a complete success, and then he was to be mercilessly killed by their worst enemy. He heard fast steps down the spiral stair case and felt a warm wind rushing towards him. A white figure fast as lightning came leaping down the stairs, wielding a sword with deadly accuracy. The Scythian was pierced from behind and violently wreaked aside. Strong hands scooped him up, strong arms embraced him and he felt that wonderful warmth and strength only the King could give to him. Alexander asked worriedly, his voice unsteady and tears running down his cheeks:

"My dear friend, how are you? Did he have the time to stab you...?"

Hephastion struggled desperately for breath, at long last managing to get enough air to answer his King and brave rescuer:

"No, Alexander, I'm fine. Let's leave this place - forever!"

The Macedonians saw King Alexander and his True Steadfast Friend coming up from the abyss together, helping each other to stay on their feet. A wonderful golden light of true love and friendship was emanating from them. They all cheered and prepared to celebrate the victory.

TBC and conclusion in part seven


	7. Happy Ending

TEMPLATE:

Title: FIC: I, Too Am Alexander ( 7 / 7 ) Conclusion

Author: NorthernLight

Category: Love/Friendship/Adventure story. Alternate History.

Pairing: Alexander&Hephaestion

Date: November 2005.

Feedback: Yes, all kinds, on or off list, as you please.

Archive: Yes, if you like, but please tell me. Archivated at the ATG Slash&Fanfic Yahooo Groups.

Disclaimer: I don't own them. For entertainment only...hopefully. Not for gain - my work is for my deep interest in Alexander and Hephaestion, their time and adventures.

Rating: R

Beta: Denise. Many thanks for good discussions and suggestions.

Summary : Hephaestion has been having a hard time organizing a brave rescue party . At long last he has succeeded to rescue Alexander from his cruel captivity at the Rock of Chorienes. Now is celebration time for the brave rescuers and a time of reckoning for those not so brave.

Warnings: This is AR, very close to but not "real" history. Alexander besieged the Rock of Chorienes but was of course never imprisoned there. Intrigue and quarrels. Happy ending with another wild party. Very sentimental epilogue.

Historical note: The Rock of Chorienes is a real place, being besieged by Alexander and his army on his way to India. Nysa is also a real place and the Macedonians actually held some wild festivities there to honor Dionysos.

Dedication: To Denise. Thanks to your excellent and positive fic challenge about Alexander being kidnapped and Hephaestion taking over the army for a daring and dangerous rescue operation.

Rock Of Chorienes 327 BC

Day of Freedom

Hephaestion gave Alexander a worried look. Saving his best friend from his worst enemy had taken a substantial toll from the King's greatly depleted energy. Now he was shivering, both from the cold inside the hill fort and from after effects of the strenuous fight.

"Alexander. How are you? You look so pale and wan. I'm amazed that you are standing on your feet, let alone that you were able to do what you did to save me from the Scythian's assault. "

"I'm fine, now when you are with me, my Hephaestion. Only so very cold..."

Only now Hephaestion saw the King's short, threadbare shirt and his bare feet. He quickly took of his camouflage colored cloak and gently wrapped it around Alexander. The blue green sturdy wool warmed the King, but the very best thing for him was his friend's loving arm around his shoulders. He looked at him with fondness and respect:

"Now I'm feeling much better. I always knew you would come for me. Now let's get out from here! I long to be out under the open sky!"

Hephaestion and Cleitus held Alexander in a firm grip from both sides as they walked out from the Rock. The King was staggering from his violent exertions and he truly needed their strong support. The combined drawbridge and entrance door was made from thick and sturdy wood, but easy to haul down from inside the fort. It opened slowly, letting in a flood of radiant golden sunlight and wonderful fresh mountain air. Alexander took several eager breaths of the pure air, and then he had to hold his hand over his eyes to protect them from the sunlight he had been deprived of for so long. A cheer of many voices welcomed the King and his faithful Macedonians as they walked out from the Rock.

Liberators of the Oppressed

The Rock of Chorienes was basking in the golden afternoon sun looking the same as always. The kind and docile people cowering in its shadows were constantly frightened by the fierce mountain bandits occupying it. Their hard lives had been made even more miserable since the red haired Scythian joined the warlord Chorienes. It had been a very strange day. No one had come down from the Rock to harass them or demand the usual severe day's work. They were both frightened and curious and the day went on in endless speculations. It took them until well after noon to gather courage enough to walk the narrow path up to the Rock to see for themselves what had happened. With trembling hands they knocked at the sturdy drawbridge. Nothing happened. All was silence and they remained, watching and listening in fearful curiosity. Suddenly, they heard a great cheering from many unfamiliar voices. There were determined steps from many feet in military boots and soon the drawbridge came down. The villagers drew back, watching with amazement.

An impressive man with the most glorious golden hair walked towards them, heavily leaning on two other fierce warriors, one young and beautiful with a long, flaming auburn mane, the other several years older, with long black hair and beard and looking very dangerous indeed. They were followed by a whole army of fierce fighters. The golden man was dressed in a modest, blue green mantle swept around his lean but powerful frame but one couldn't mistake his regal manners. The poor villagers immediately knew who he was. They knelt in awesome respect before him, whispering in amazement:

"Sikandar! He has come to liberate us from our oppressors!"

Alexander answered them:

"Yes, you are free, at long last. Chorienes and Ohrlasz will harass you no more. They are dead and gone. I will have another Macedonian garrison established up here. You will be treated with kindness and respect. "

"Thank you, King of Persia. We'll never forget your goodness. "

"Don't thank me, my poor oppressed friends. I've been held prisoner in the Rock by those villains for a very long month, waiting to be free. You must thank my dear friend here. Hephaestion is your liberator and benefactor. He managed to climb the cliff with my brave men and made a brilliant surprise attack on your tormentors, liberating both me and you in the process."

Alexander put his arm closer around Hephaestion's broad shoulders and gave him an admiring look:

"You truly are Alexander too! I couldn't have managed this rescue operation better myself! It is equal to Tyre and Gaza. You are my most brilliant general, my very dearest friend..."

The villagers and the whole army interrupted him as they burst out in cheers of joy and celebration. A whole chorus reverberated around the mountainside:

"All hail to King Alexander! All hail to the General Hephaestion!"

Four Legged Friends

Alexander listened to the thankful cheers of the oppressed villagers. It sounded like the most wonderful music in his ears. He looked at Hephaestion with love and respect, clinging to him for well needed support. He was suddenly feeling dizzy and very weak from his ordeals at the Rock. All the world started spinning around, his legs gave way under him and he fell into a cold, clammy darkness. The last thing he saw before he lost consciousness was Hephaestion's wonderful blue eyes. His True Steadfast Friend reacted fast to his weakness and lifted him, holding him fondly in his powerful arms. He knew he was in safety whatever should befall him. A Dear Voice addressed him:

"Alexander?"

Hephaestion felt how the King walked more and more unsteadily at his side, leaning heavily on his right arm. He gave him a worried look and saw how pale and wan he was. Beads of cold sweat glistened at his brow and he had some difficulties in breathing. All of a sudden Alexander's legs gave way and he fell towards him. Hephaestion had seen it coming and quickly lifted him up. He held him gently, looking with great anxiety at his pale face and his body that rested limp and almost paralyzed in his arms.

"Oh no. He is unconscious. What am I to do now?"

General Cleitus came to his aid, giving some sound advice:

"Nothing at all, my dear friend. There is nothing wrong with Alexander. He just needs rest, food and some good red wine, and then he will be himself once more! We must take him back to camp as fast as we can!"

Hephaestion carried his friend down the narrow path from the Rock. It was easy, Alexander being so thin and starved from his ordeals. Down on the steppe they were greeted by a most welcome sight. Bucephalus came running towards them in a cloud of yellow dust. Castor was close at the side of the King's mighty war stallion, and Peritas and Pollux were jumping around both horses, happily wagging their tails. Bucephalus came up to the King, giving him a worried look, seeming almost human in his anxious concern. Those around could swear on seeing real tears in his big, brown eyes. The faithful horse then begun to lick his Dear Master with his hash tongue all over his face. Alexander woke up, looking into the warm and loving eyes of his dear four legged friend. He reached out and fondly embraced Bucephalus, and then he released himself from Hephaestion, putting his feet firmly on the ground.

"Thank you for helping me out, my friend. Now you don't need to carry me anymore. I've got someone far stronger who'll take me back to camp. "

Alexander stood for a long time holding his arms in a firm grip around the horse's muscular neck, letting Bucephalus support him. He hid his face in the long black hairs of his mane, softly telling him of all his recent troubles, crying out of joy and sheer fatigue. Peritas and Pollux came running around him, joyously barking and nudging at him. He knelt and embraced both dogs. They licked his face, licking up his salty tears, trying to comfort him. He told them with some difficulty:

"Please calm down, my furry friends. Don't you see I'm crying out of joy. I'm so glad to be amongst friends again!"

At last Bucephalus did the only right thing and sunk down on his hackles, as i f to tell his Dear Master: Let's forget all these sad memories and get back to camp!"

Alexander understood and seated himself on his faithful old war horse. Bucephalus had run away without his Royal gear but the King was used to ride bare back since his tumultuous youth. Hephaestion took a strong grip in Castor's auburn mane and swung himself up on the prudent stallion's back. He rode at the side of the King, keeping careful watch over him. The troops followed, constantly cheering. The rescue operation had been a formidable success. Not a single Macedonian had been killed in the hard fighting at the Rock of Chorienes. All gave praise to the General Hephaestion's clever strategies and King Alexander's formidable energy and courage.

Recovery

The main camp was a long way off but they reached it right after sunset. Alexander was sagging from fatigue and Hephaestion had to hold a strong grip around his back and shoulders lest he should fall. The King was so very tired that he even had great difficulties to speak to his friend. When they rode into camp between the many tents they were greeted by guards and soldiers coming towards them with sconces. Soon cheerful exclamations was all over camp:

"All hail! King Alexander is back!"

Bucephalus took a straight path to the King's glorious tent and sunk down again on his hackles close to the opening. Alexander got off and thanked him for the safe ride. He then immediately went inside, staggering from fatigue and weakness. Hephaestion held him close and called for Doctor Philip. He got even more worried when the King lost consciousness once more. The good doctor quickly came with all his remedies in a leather bag. Inside the King's tent he found a most wonderful and welcome sight. Hephaestion was sitting at the tent floor with Alexander resting safely, his head in the lap of his friend. Sconces formed a circle of warm golden light around them both, flickering in their auburn and golden hair.

"Hephaestion. I'm so glad you all are back. How is the King? Has he been badly hurt?"

"No, but he is very weak. I don't think they have touched a hair on his head - but he complained of total starvation and that he hasn't got any wine at all since he got captured! . "

"Oh my, oh my! However did he manage without that? Let me see to him!"

The good doctor examined his important patient thoroughly, feeling his brow and the pulse at his neck and inspecting him all over. Soon he made a puzzled statement:

"How come you tell me he has been without wine for a whole month? Now he is dead drunk for all I can tell!"

Bagoas came forward from the shadows, blushing as he told the doctor:

"It must be my fault, doctor Philip. I meant to give the King a sip from the miracle cordial to relieve his pain when the blacksmith removed the shackles - but he took the jar from me and drank it all up! "

The good doctor couldn't help himself as he burst out in relieved laughter:

"That explains it all. I well know the contents of King Alexander's miracle cordial. It consists of revitalizing herbs drowning in strong wine! No wonder he got drunk!"

He continued his examination. Alexander moaned and groaned when the doctor touched the wounds on his wrists and ankles but he didn't wake up.

"Those wounds are quite nasty but they are already beginning to heal. How strange..."

Hephaestion answered adamantly:

"Not at all. We brought the miracle ointment and Bagoas took good care of Alexander when we fought the mountain bandits. "

"Well. You may continue with this wonderful medication. Give the King a warm bath, some hot broth and soft bread, and then he needs to rest for some days. No wine, mind you, though. Not until he has regained his proper strength and wits. "

Both the King's friends took good care of him and after enjoying a warm, perfumed bath and a wholesome meal he fell asleep on his own hard army cot, wrapped in his own warm furs and blankets. Hephaestion and Bagoas were resting closely at his sides. The three of them slept almost continuously for three whole days, being totally exhausted by the brave rescue operation.

Time of Reckoning

Alexander was sitting on a round stone covered with soft green moss, resting during a walk through the shady Nysean woods. He was still weak after his ordeal at the Rock of Chorienes. His faithful guards were standing closely around him, watching over his security. Cassander came up towards him, covering in the shadows with feigned humility.

"Alexander, may I address You?"

"Yes, my Cassander. Tell me whatever you want. "

"Alexander, you must have wondered whatever took us so long to come to your rescue. The Rock of Chorienes is not that far away from Nysa..."

"No, it isn't, I suppose. "

"Perhaps you have heard that there were some disturbances in camp. It was far worse than that. Your precious Hephaestion is such a quarrel monger! He was picking a fight with your honorable general Craterus, almost strangling him in the process! Cleitus and Eumenes had to come to his aid or else he would have perished! .All were most upset by this outrage and it took us several days to recover..."

Alexander gave the telltale a cold glance:

"Yes, and what about it? It is not one man's fault when two fall out with each other. I'll talk to them both. We cannot have such discord in camp, especially when in such grave danger. By the way, what did you do to come to my rescue? I didn't see you until after all the fighting was over. It is a crying shame not being able to climb a small cliff to rescue your King!"

Cassander started stuttering and then went back into the woodland shadows. Another cowering shadow came creeping towards him from the bushes. It was the Secretary of State.

"Eumenes! What do you want with me?"

"My King. The General Hephaestion ought to be sent home to Macedon in disgrace! He made so many mistakes arranging the mission for your rescue. Saving on the ransom, fighting Craterus, delaying everything..."

"How strange!". I heard you were in charge of the King's ransom. It was your damned stinginess that almost cost me my life! And...I didn't see you at all up at the Rock. I advise you to be more munificent in the future regarding important expenses...or else my Dear Mother will have a new secretary back home in Macedon!"

Eumenes quickly disappeared back into the thick of the forest.

Alexander summoned the Generals Hephaestion and Craterus to his tent. He was dressed in Royal purple and sitting on his throne like chair, giving them his sternest looks.

"My gentlemen, I've heard there were some severe disturbances in camp during my absence. It is said it was so serious that the rescue operation had to be postponed for several days! I also heard that you two were directly involved. "

The two opponents blushed and looked down into the ground.

"Why so silent? You use to have many things to say to me about each other. Why not tell it outright face to face!"

Craterus was the first one to speak up:

"That's just what we did, my King. Unfortunately it all ended up with us fighting each other with swords, and then wrestling until nightfall. It was most unwise of us. We had to use some of your Miracle remedies to recover from our injuries. That's what took the rescue operation so long..."

Alexander looked at his dearest friend:

"Hephaestion, what do you say to this?"

"It is as he says, Alexander. The General Craterus told me something unforgivable. I brandished my sword and then we simply couldn't stop fighting, not until he almost severed my left arm from my body and, the Gods may forgive me, I almost managed to strangle him. If Bagoas hadn't brought your Miracle Cures we would still be invalids laid up in our tents!"

Alexander rose from his chair and stamped the floor with his right foot. The ground shook and the opponents covered from his wrath. His eyes were filled with white, hot anger and, although being the shortest of the three men, he managed to look down upon the mighty generals.

"I'm most disappointed with you. I've told you to make up and stop your quarreling many times. Now it almost led to severe grief and harm for us all. Hephaestion, you must learn to curb your hot temper - and - Craterus, you will stop throwing those nasty remarks about my bed chamber and such to my dearest friend! The next time I hear about you two fighting or telling nasty things to each other I will make you very sorry for it indeed!"

The generals watched each other suspiciously. No one wanted to admit being at fault and reluctantly they bowed to each other. Alexander now rose from his purple covered chair and embraced them both.

"I'm so thankful I have you two at my side. Alexander's dearest friend and the King's strongest warrior! Between yourselves you made quite a success of my rescue. Not a single man was killed and we got another mighty stronghold. Now let's have a grand celebration! We must thank Dionysos for my freedom - and enjoy ourselves with rich foods, good strong wine and other pleasures! You must look more closely to security arrangements this time, though!"

"Yes, my King. No harm will befall neither you nor anyone of us!"

Under The Old Oak Tree

The party was all over. It had been a wonderful feast with well watered wine and rich foods in abundance. The God Dionysos watched with pleasure from his hidden glen deep in the forests of fabled Nysa. Now was a time for love and friendship. All the guests were forming all kinds of couples and walked away to beautiful, secluded places in the meadows and copses all around. The most important people were closely guarded, their faithful guards stone sober, mouths full of the sour taste of vinegar water. Soon the guards had to turn their backs at the ongoing activities...

Night had fallen a long time ago but it was still wonderfully warm as if the sun had been soaring golden and beautiful high up in the skies. The heavens formed a dome shaped, cupola of black velvet, adorned with sparkling stars. A shining, silvery full moon was looking down at the glorious feast and its love filled aftermath, kindly giving enough light for all drunken and love smitten revelers. Alexander and Hephaestion wandered along, arm in arm under the star lit skies. They wanted to have some hours for themselves - but there were some severe hindrances. All their faithful guards were forming close circles around them - eight for each of them. They had even more company. Peritas and Pollux were guarding their heels so closely they almost stumbled upon the faithful watch dogs. Bucephalus and Castor walked right behind their masters, their muzzles on their shoulders. Alexander turned around and addressed the kind and vigilant animals:

"I'm so glad for your watchfulness after this party. I well remember what you did last time!"

He teasingly patted all their muzzles and they bowed their heads in shame. If they had been able to blush they surely would have. Hephaestion reproached him:

"Alexander. You must not scold our dear animal friends. They only did what we and all others did that disastrous night!"

The rose bush portal was still there, now with all new buds and blooms. Their wonderful fragrance formed a faint rose colored cloud in the hot, dark Sogdian night and it enhanced their warm feelings for each other. The old oak tree was dimly visible through the flowery arch, it's roots parting for the soft Lover's bed, with green grass and tufts of fragrant flowers. They remembered this place with fondness and fear. Hephaestion asked:

"Alexander. Do you really want us to go here of all places? "

"Yes, my dear friend. Lightning never strikes twice at the same place. Now come with me. This is a night for pleasure, not for painful memories. "

The King made a sign to all the guards. They discretely turned away, forming a wall of vigilance all around the old oak tree. He sat down and rested his back against the warm stem of the old oak, holding out his right arm towards his True Steadfast Friend. Hephaestion saw his Beautiful Golden One in a pool of moonlight filtering through the old oaks's foliage, its silvery radiance turned to gold by Alexander's renewed vitality. Eagerly he sunk down and melted into the warm embrace of his very best and dearest friend.

Epilogue I

Somewhere in the Indian jungle, 327 BC

Deep into the Indian jungle dwelt a realm no one dared approach. A whole people was covering in its shadow, most of them living in an age old city built in honor of the Evil Goddess Khali, most aptly named Khalisahr. Her temple was it's most prominent building, closely watched by her priest and guardians and surrounded by all kinds of venomous and constricting snakes. The ruler of this remote and evil realm was the fierce warlord Ahriman, formerly of Scythia. He was so powerful not only his Indian subjects obeyed him. No, even the tigers, panthers and venomous snakes in the jungle were his obedient and willing slaves, committing all kinds of evil deeds to do his bidding. They guarded his gloomy dwelling far better than the strong human watchers. He resided in a palace built a very long time ago. One grand cupola was surrounded by onion shaped towers and buildings. It's mighty stone boulders were covered by green moss, dripping from the jungle moisture. The constant damp never dried since violent torrents of rain followed each other all the year around, with a very short dry season in the middle of the steaming hot and endless summer.

The Lord Ahriman was sitting on a throne in the palace's great hall, dark of hair and with gleaming green eyes. He was dressed in a cool, loosely donned black tunic, fastened around his waist with a sash adorned with gold plaits and rubies. A chain of red gold hung around his neck and enormous blood red rubies glimmered like evil eyes from elaborate curls. Soft crimson cushions supported his muscular frame and peacock fans wafted by cringing servants gave him some relief from the oppressive heat. He refreshed himself with some fruit juice from a golden chalice adorned with poisonous green emeralds. Now an unfamiliar guest came near his throne, forcefully nudged by two black panthers. It was a Scythian, worn out from long travels and hardships. He cringed, even more fearfully than the Lord Ahriman's own citizens and servants.

"My Lord Ahriman. I bear you sad tidings from your brother Ohrlasz. He is dead. He has been slain in a most cruel manner by Sikandar and his companion Hephaestion. "

The Lord Ahriman was overwhelmed by sorrow and dismay. Ohrlasz was his most beloved brother, his most powerful relative. He had always been there, guarding the West from all enemies. He simply couldn't have perished, not at the hands of those Greek intruders. His luminous green eyes, his determined face, his fiery red hair, all his prominent features came before his bereaved brother and the Lord Ahriman cried out in angered disbelief:

"No. You lie to me! This cannot have happened. This cannot be!"

The trembling Scythian crept closer and put something in his lap. It was a chain of pure red gold, adorned with giant, blood red rubies, an exact replica of the one around the Lord Ahriman's own neck. It was sullied by dried blood. He immediately recognized it as his dear brother's most precious possession. His cruel heart was filled with insane grief for the only human being he had ever loved and admired and he roared in a violent rage:

"Tell me all about this outrage. Revenge! I will have my revenge upon Sikandar and this Hephaestion!"

All his subjects and all jungle beasts shuddered and cowered in the shadow of his outburst. Soon a violent torrent of rain drenched the city of Khalisahr and the trees of the jungle swayed in the wild winds. The Lord Ahriman wandered the dark halls and corridors of his sinister palace, making clever and insidious plans to avenge his dear departed brother.

Epilogue II

Nysa 325 BC

Alexander approached Nysa once more, riding at the head of his returning army. The realm was as beautiful and friendly as he remembered it and the people came out in masse to cheer the peacefully advancing troops. Much had happened since his last visit two years ago. The Indian campaign with its victories and setbacks, the way back through hostile country - and worst of all - the Desert Hell of Gedrosia. So many dear friends and companions had perished, so many to mourn. Amongst them were not only humans. Bucephalus, Peritas and Pollux had breathed their last during the hard Indian campaigns. He missed them sorely - but then he set his eyes upon his True Steadfast Friend riding at his side, his old war stallion Castor still alive and courageously walking along. A warm smile lit up his saddened features. Hephaestion had been at his side all the way and helped him through all hardship. He could never have endured it all without his strong support, warm friendship and everlasting love.

Weary from the long journey they sat off their horses and went to the sparkling river to refresh themselves. After a drink from the cool, pure water and a cleansing swimming tour Alexander had donned a fresh chiton and was resting on a warm, moss clad stone. He heard some upset voices drowned by the din of hooves and the barking of several dogs.

"No! No! You savage creatures! You may not run off and bother the King!"

Two black horses came running up to him, a stallion and a mare looking like two fierce thunder clouds. They had these white, lightning like streaks like small ox heads on their brows that Alexander could have recognized everywhere. Being as sober as a judge he still thought he was seeing double - and making things up! The two beautiful horses stayed respectfully in front of him. They nudged him with their velvet muzzles and when he didn't understand their meaning they sunk down on their hackles. He embraced them both and started to cry into their long black manes.

"Bucephalus! My Dear One. You seem to have left some very fine memories of yourself in this wonderful place. I think I'll name your beautiful twins Bucephalion and Bellona. "

Alexander mounted the stallion and the proud animal took him on a fast gallop all over the green meadows of fair Nysa. The mare followed, giving them some jealous looks. Hephaestion looked in amazement as his old, prudent war stallion Castor followed in a calm canter. Then he saw an auburn evasive shadow hiding behind the enormous tree stem of an old ginko tree covered by succulent green leaves. Curiously he approached it.

"And who may you be, my bashful friend?"

When he saw the prudent young auburn stallion he burst into peals of laughter.

"Castor! You are as if in your youth again. I think I'll name you Young Castor! Oh, I'm so glad my old horse let himself be carried of by the same feelings as all of us that remarkable night!"

Young Castor carefully nudged him all around, and then he licked his hands and face with his coarse tongue. Hephaestion had never been so thoroughly examined but he seemed to have found favor with the prudent stallion. He asked respectfully:

" Do you want to take me for a ride?"

The shining auburnstallion nodded eagerly and stood completely still as Hephaestion mounted him. They went away in a fast canter, meeting Alexander on his return from the wild ride on the black stallion. The King sat off, holding his injured right side, gasping for breath. He let himself fall on his back in the soft green grass, lying there with a happy smile. Hephaestion quickly came to his side.

"How are you, Alexander? You must not exert yourself. Doctor Philip has told you it could be dangerous. "

"Don't you worry, my friend. This is happiness, not exertion! "

A pack of enormous light brown furry dogs came swarming all over them, happily licking their faces and hands. They were annoyed by their unbecoming behavior and at first tried to shoo them away. "Away with you, you misbehaving mongrels!" At a closer look they greeted them with much happiness.

"Peritas! Pollux! But - it's impossible! And - why are there so many of you? "

Some friendly farmers came up and made venerable apologies.

"Sires. We planned on presenting those impossible animals as a present to You and the General Hephaestion. They belong to you! Both your stallions and dogs must have fancied some of our mares and bitches! We haven't been able to give them any drill at all. It seems they have been waiting for you all this time!"

Alexander gave them his warmest and most thankful smile:

"My dear friends. You don't need to apologize at all. These dear animals are the best present we could get! We are most thankful that you have taken such good care of them all in our absence. Now we'll take the very best care of them and teach them all they need to know in our company. "

Both men, horses and dogs frolicked together for a long time at the green meadows of Nysa. For the time being all troubles and sorrows of the grim past were forgotten. All was possible and for the time being they were consumed by an overwhelming happiness.

The end


End file.
